Behind the Clouds
by Etcetera Kit
Summary: DT SPD. Conner, Sky, Bridge, Z and Syd are back at SPD for a new year. Between company plays and undercover missions, things begin to spiral down a dark road of regret and guilt. AU. Complete.
1. Yellow Roses I

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**Note: **This is the sequel to _Kings and Vagabonds_. I don't plan on spending much time summarizing what happened in that piece in this one, so some things might be confusing if you haven't read it. As I've said before, I do plan on exploring some of the things briefly mentioned in the prequel to this (and they should be apparent soon.) With that said, this piece will be much lighter than its predecessor! As another side note, the idea of Sky being the child of Wes and Jen did not originate with me. It originiated with _White Time Ranger_ in her story, _A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words_.

* * *

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter One: Yellow Roses I**

_Year 2021 - September_

Z read the data pad once more, not quite believing her eyes. The updated list of at-large criminals that the Space Patrol Delta Power Rangers were working on bringing in had just been sent and the new names shocked her, even though they shouldn't have. It hadn't been that long since she had lived on the streets, about a year. It seemed like a lifetime had passed between then and now. Now, she had found her parents, had a boyfriend who loved her, had a job, food, clothes, money – all the things she had been lacking for so long.

She closed her eyes, setting the data pad on her desk. It had been a cold, rainy night. She couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen, but even then, she had been on the streets since she was six and was hardened into that rough life. Pain, cold, fear – those were the sensations that were her constant companions. The alley she had gone into was like so many in Newtech City – dirty, dank and filled with the scent of rotting garbage. All she had been looking for was some food that wasn't too moldy. That wasn't what she got.

Two men were in the alley when she got there. Thinking they were nothing more than fellow street-dwellers, she ignored them, shuffling towards one of the trash cans. Their voices, jeering and sarcastic, came back to her.

_"Look at the little girl!"_

_"Want to play with us?"_

Oh – even at that young age, she had been used to selling her body for money or food. This was no different than a thousand other encounters. One of the halfway houses she frequented handed out birth control and contraception, so she wasn't worried about anything other than making a few dollars.

_"There's a price!"_

Even now, that simple statement sounded a lot braver than she had felt. Things happened quickly and she found herself struggling to get out of the back of a car. All of the horror stories that mothers told about being in an alley after dark – this was the epitome of those experiences. Minutes turned to hours and she wasn't sure of anything. Pain and blood… that was all she remembered when they dumped her back in that alley.

Mrs. Mancuso found her and helped her, like she always did. It was before she met Jack, before she learned about the upper crust of street living. As much as Z wanted that incident to be the only of its kind, it wasn't.

Taking a deep breath, Z tried to steady herself, concentrating on her surroundings. The warm September sunlight poured through the window of her and Syd's room. Her kitten, Inkwell, was sleeping on her pillow, curled up next to Bridge's stuffed dinosaur, Olive. Her eyes went to her nightstand and the pictures there. The one in the front was of herself and her parents at Christmas. Her father was on the floor in front of the couch, one of the cats in his lap, while she and her mother were on the couch, all of them smiling.

"I'm Elizabeth Evans," she said aloud. "Delgado was a made-up last name. I'm Z Evans – my parents are Cole and Alyssa Evans. Elizabeth Taylor Evans…"

It was almost sad that she had to tell herself that on a regular basis. SPD had changed so much from when she had joined last fall. They had a new commander, a new A-Squad and a completely new routine. Tomorrow, the new cadets for this fall would arrive. She shook her head, none of the B-Squad was cadets anymore, Doctor Oliver had graduated them.

Glancing at her desk, Z picked up the single long-stemmed yellow rose. The flower was from Bridge, the B-Squad Green Ranger and her boyfriend. He liked to leave her little gifts every so often, just to make her smile. Sighing, she allowed the smile to drift over her face. Bridge had a way of knowing what to do to cheer her up. Of course, it helped that he was psychometric and telepathic, the combination of which allowed him to read psychic residue.

She glanced to the clock. It was almost noon. The official B-Squad lunch hour was from noon to one. Thinking of Mrs. Mancuso, she had a sudden craving for Italian food.

"Hey, Z! Oh – you got the flower!"

Z grinned as Bridge stepped through the open door to her room. His uniform jacket was unzipped and he looked like his general clueless self. The only difference in his appearance from when she met him a year ago was the fact that he no longer wore thick leather gloves to block out the psychometric aspect of his powers.

"Yeah," she whispered. She closed the space between them and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. His hands went to her waist, holding on to the kiss and deepening it. God, she had been so used to being nothing more than a body that sensations Bridge caused were heaven. Gently breaking the kiss, she pressed her forehead against his. "I love you," she murmured.

"I know," he replied with a grin.

"So what's going on?" she asked. "What do you want?"

"Well," Bridge started. "Doctor Oliver wants us to spend the rest of today getting ready for the new cadets." Doctor Oliver was the current commander of SPD on Earth and by _us_ Bridge meant the B-Squad, now in a capacity as resident assistants for the cadets. "And me and Sky and Austin are done."

"Me and Syd are done too."

"So, we've got all the rest of today to ourselves."

Z smiled. Bridge always had a roundabout way of getting to his point. "Want to go out to lunch?" she asked. "I'll buy."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I know a great little Italian place…"

With that, they started on the quest of finding a ride. The restaurant was on the other side of town and Z wasn't looking forward to walking. The SPD vehicles were out of the question since they could only be used for official SPD business—Doctor Oliver was trying to cut down the gas bill. Lunch didn't qualify for that. The only other person on the B-Squad with a car was Sky, which was why Z was so surprised that Bridge appeared with the keys. Sky letting anyone other than himself drive his car?

"I had to promise not to crash into anyone," Bridge said as they headed for the parking garage. "Of course, he said it would be okay if someone crashed into me."

Z shook her head and grinned as they got into Sky's little blue car. His real parents, Wes and Jen, were billionaires and had bought him a new car last winter. Of course, Sky's last car was a junk bucket so he was even more protective of the brand new car. He also downplayed the fact that his parents could get him anything quite often, although, aside from the car, Z knew that Sky had a credit card Wes funded that was for "emergencies." Not that it was going to get any better once Sky's little sister was born.

The drive to the restaurant was quiet, as Bridge was concentrating on driving, more than he would have if he had been driving an SPD vehicle. Soon enough, the familiar storefront came into view and Z was grinning.

"You come here often?" Bridge asked as they got out of the car.

"The lady who owns this place used to give me food when I lived on the streets," she replied softly, pushing open the door. The familiar smells of tomato sauce and warm bread hit her and she inhaled deeply. It had been too long since she came here…

"Elizabeth!" Mrs. Mancuso came from the backroom, her arms open. Z accepted a hug from her, grinning. "How have you been, honey?" the older woman gushed. "I haven't seen you in such a long time! I was beginning to worry." Mrs. Mancuso held her at an arm's length and took in her SPD uniform. "You look like you're doing well." She glanced sharply at Bridge. "And who's your gentleman-friend?"

"Mrs. Mancuso, this is Bridge," she said, linking her arm through Bridge's. Bridge gave her a small wave. "He's my boyfriend," she added.

Mrs. Mancuso gave Bridge a severe look, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. "You've got the best girl in the world, young man. You better take care of her."

"Yes, m'am," Bridge replied seriously.

"Come on," the older woman said with a smile. "You can have a seat by the kitchen. I want to hear all about what's happened to you since I last saw you!"

Mrs. Mancuso sat them in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant. Bridge let out a long breath as they gave her their drink orders and she left. "And I thought your dad was intimidating," he said with a low whistle.

"My dad likes everyone," she retorted. "There's nothing to be afraid of." She paused. "Mrs. Mancuso took care of me when I was on the streets. She's kind of like an overprotective aunt."

"You should bring your parents here. They'd probably want to meet someone who helped you out so much."

Z looked away from Bridge's blue-eyed gaze. He was right. But there was so much she hadn't told her parents about her life on the streets. Oh – they probably had an idea of what she had gone through, but they weren't pushing her for answers. Just as long as they heard from her every two or three days and she came home every so often, they were happy. They wanted her to be happy and bringing up painful memories of her life on the streets, it was too much. That past didn't coincide with her present.

Bridge gently took her hand, understanding her reluctance to talk about it. He knew what had happened to her and he wanted to protect her – he didn't want anything like that to happen to her ever again.

"So what did you guys decide on for a floor theme?" he asked, effectively changing the subject to their RA duties.

"Brian Froud's fairies," Z replied, wrinkling her nose. "It was the only thing that Syd and I could agree on – and the bulletin boards are pink and yellow."

"Ours is comic books," Bridge said. "Bulletin boards are red, blue and green. Austin did this really cool thing with a comic book font for the door signs."

And Bridge was off talking about the art project that had kept the three B-Squad males up until all hours last night. Austin, Syd's older brother, was the current B-Squad Red Ranger and was spastic enough to get along with Bridge and rule-oriented enough to get along with Sky. It was entertaining how he switched modes, depending on who he was dealing with.

Mrs. Mancuso came back with their drinks and food and pulled up a chair. The rest of their lunch was spent relating tales of the B-Squad to Mrs. Mancuso.

* * *

Kira Ford glanced at the data pad. It contained her work schedule for the next three weeks. The coming week had a fairly light workload – Tommy was probably giving her a break since he knew that they had a million last minute wedding plans to deal with. The following week she and Conner were off – on a mini-honeymoon of sorts. They were spending a week in New York City. However, none of that bothered her. It was the special assignment that she had a briefing for after getting back to Newtech City. 

The current A-Squad Yellow Ranger sighed and pushed her hair behind her ear. There were codes for each of them on the data pads. She was _A4_. It sounded like a bad role-playing game code, but the _A_ stood for A-Squad and the _4_ was code for Yellow Ranger. Of course, she wasn't the only one being briefed for this mission. _A5_ was the other code. That meant Paris Grayson, Austin's twin and Syd's older sister. She was the current A-Squad Pink Ranger and tended to be in on most undercover assignments, which was probably what this was.

She shouldn't be worried about it. If things went wrong, Paris generally had no problem blasting her way out – and she took more arsenal than she was supposed to. It shouldn't matter – it was just another assignment. She had bigger things to worry about right now, mainly, the wedding plans.

Conner and she were getting married in the SPD Academy chapel in a week. That, in and of itself, should have been exciting. However, she had a headache from organizing all the people involved. Paris had volunteered to be in charge of the florist, caterer and music – not to mention having planned the reception, but that still meant Kira had to deal with the tailors, the guests and the wedding party. The rehearsal dinner was Wednesday… nothing was going to be ready in time. The restaurant for the dinner had already cancelled and Kira was tearing her hair out trying to come up with a last minute replacement.

She put the data pad down and leaned her head in her hands at the kitchen table. Nothing was working out. She had never had to plan a wedding before. Then again, she had never been married. Long term relationships, yes, but marriage, no. The apartment was quiet. The girls, Madeline and Christina, were still in school. They were Conner's daughters from his first ill-fated marriage and were now nine and seven. Of course, Conner had sole custody of them and they didn't see their real mother. The pair had come to her a few weeks ago and announced their intention to start calling her 'mom.' It had made her heart melt.

Now, there was the train wreck that was her wedding.

Her cell phone rang. Kira picked it up and glanced at the caller. It was Paris. Lord, she didn't know if she could take more bad news today. She answered it. "Hello?"

"Kira, good news!" she said without preamble or identifying herself. "I just got off the phone with the tailor and the girls can come in for a final fitting tonight at seven and the boys can go in tomorrow morning before work." There was a pause and a shuffling of papers. "And the florist had given us a wedding discount and I was thinking we could do dinner after the fitting tonight."

"Okay…" she said slowly. At least that wasn't a problem anymore.

"So what's going on?"

"Aside from the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner canceling, nothing."

"What absolute bastards! Give me twenty minutes – I'll find a new place! And if I can't, we can all go to my house and my dad can barbeque for everyone."

She hung up. Kira shook her head and disconnected the call on her phone. It would be entertaining if nothing else to end up in Paris' backyard for the rehearsal dinner. Her father, Carter Grayson, was the cook in their family. Between him and Paris' Uncle Ryan, she had no doubts that the pair of them could come up with enough food for the wedding party and then some. Kira sometimes forgot that Paris was only twenty. She tended to act quite a bit older than her age would dictate. It was part of the reason Tommy had assigned her to the A-Squad.

Having Paris around was nice.

The door to the apartment slid open and Conner entered. Kira turned and gave him a brief smile before going back to the wedding plans on the table. Tonight at seven, she would have to round up Conner's daughters – Madeline was a bridesmaid and Christina was the flower girl and take them to the tailor's. Paris would no doubt round up Syd, her little sister, and Z and get them where they needed to be.

Conner came into the kitchen and pressed a kiss to her cheek before sitting down in the chair next to her. "Is there a reason Paris has been on the phone for the last half hour instead of profiling criminals like she's supposed to be doing?" Her fiancé was the A-Squad Red Ranger and, ordinarily, wouldn't have had a problem with Paris being off-task.

"I asked her to argue with the tailor for me," Kira replied. "And now she's supposed to be looking for a new restaurant for the rehearsal dinner – or we're going to be in her backyard eating barbeque."

"I like that idea," Conner said with a grin. "Beer and barbeque."

"You would," Kira said, rolling her eyes. "You and the rest of the boys have a final fitting tomorrow morning before work."

"That'll be fun," he replied sarcastically. "Seeing as Bridge practically has to be bombed out of bed every morning."

Of the four other men in the wedding party, Bridge would be the hardest to get up in the morning. Sky was almost always up hours before anyone else and Ethan and Trent had learned years ago how to set an alarm clock.

Her phone rang again. It was Paris – again. "I hope she found a restaurant this quickly," Kira muttered as she picked up the phone. "Hello?" she asked.

"Great news," Paris launched into her speech without an introduction first. "I found a new restaurant for the rehearsal dinner – no barbeque in my backyard." There was some shuffling on Paris' end of the phone. "Fine – _I_ didn't find the restaurant. _Z_ found the place. It's on the other side of town and called Little Italy."

"Good," Kira replied. At least that headache was over.

"Since when is Z in the command center with her?" Conner asked. "I left there three minutes ago and she was by herself."

"I heard that," Paris said into the phone. "Tell McKnight he's stupid."

Kira covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "She says you're stupid."

Conner rolled his eyes. He got told once a day by Paris that he was egotistical, stupid and a sexist pig. Sexist pig tended to be the favorite… Kira just shook her head as she listened to Paris rattle off a time frame for the rehearsal dinner and then a timeframe for the fitting and dinner that night. Paris was mostly hot air.

"Oh yeah – and remind McKnight that he has an appointment with my mother tomorrow afternoon to look at his ankle." There was another pause and some shuffling. "No one asked you, Corbett!" Paris snapped.

"Bye Paris!" Kira said quickly, disconnecting the call.

"I'm going to kill her," Conner muttered. "Remind me again why she's in the wedding?"

"Because when she's not boycotting something, insulting someone or rebelling against an institution, she's actually a nice person."

"That's ninety percent of the time," he grumbled.

Kira just shook her head. The A-Squad almost had more personality conflict problems than the B-Squad. Conner was a good leader, but his patience wore thin when he had to deal with Paris and her explosive personality. She smiled to herself – the more interesting aspect was not that of Paris trying to start another counterculture movement, it was Ethan and Trent and what could only be described as their personal agendas.

The pair shared one of the two-bedroom apartments at the academy – and adapted to their roommate status fairly well. Both of them were night owls, but for different reasons. Ethan stayed up all night working on projects in the SPD lab and then continued to tinker on his personal computers for hours. Trent, still having some of the 'artist' attitude, would stay up late drawing.

One of Tommy's latest projects had been to get the higher ranking officers involved in what the cadets did. It was the reason that the B-Squad was now RAs and that Trent would be teaching a drawing class once a week. Conner was trying to start intramural sports – mostly soccer and basketball, although there was a push for the SPD Academy to get a full sports program and have the cadets participate with the other local high schools. Ironically enough, they had the facilities to do most everything except tennis and swimming. He was also trying to get the drama department started again – and Bridge was still plugging away with the academy newspaper.

All in all, the SPD Academy was turning into a bona fide school and not just a place that turned out SPD officers. Sure, that was still the purpose, but the cadets now had a chance to experience the things that made high school what it was. She couldn't imagine high school without sports and school plays and band practice and journalism… Extracurricular activities were where all her fond memories were.

"Tommy's got something for her to do that doesn't involve a boycott," Conner added with a self-satisfied grin.

"What?" Kira asked, rolling her eyes.

"Oh – I'm sure you'll be able to hear the screams of protest on the moon."

"I don't want to know.

And she probably didn't. Maybe Tommy had been a teacher too long to let the academy fester without all these things, but she thought it was a little ambitious to have the SPD Rangers in charge of a lot of it. Yes – they had pushed back the Troovian forces, but that didn't mean their job took on another aspect of being hard. Elite police brought in for dangerous crimes and criminals, undercover missions and impossible to solve mysteries…

"So," she said, changing the subject. "You're on your own tonight because me and the girls have the fitting and then we're going out to dinner."

"Yes," Conner grinned. "Beer and barbeque!" 

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, I can't promise regular updates with this piece since my schoolwork this semester has been really sporadic, but I will attempt to update once or twice a week. With that said, I'd like honest opinions on this. As a side note, I did start writing a round of romance challenges about Sky and Syd, which I may post (haven't made a decision on that.) Cheers! 


	2. Yellow Roses II

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Two: Yellow Roses II**

It was Monday morning – the new cadets were settled in and about to begin their first real day at the SPD Academy. Floor meetings had been decidedly different and, as he had popped in on both of them, he realized that Sky was probably going to kill everyone on his floor. Oh well – it was too late to rescind the RA things this year.

Commander Thomas Oliver leaned back in the couch in his quarters. He had been in charge for not quite a year – and it had been a turbulent year. And to think that he originally had been coming to make sure that SPD didn't collapse and that the transition to a new commander went smoothly. He hadn't planned on staying aboard as that new commander. He shook his head and glanced at the data pad in front of him.

The new cadets had the obstacle course and a martial arts seminar this morning – he had tried to keep their active activities in the morning and put their classes in the afternoon. Special trainings happened in the evening. It was an intense schedule, especially if the sports and fine arts got started again. He didn't lie to the incoming cadets and parents. Being a cadet at the SPD Academy was hard work – it was the reason that the applicants chosen had top grades in addition to excelling in extracurricular activities. The latter was flexible. The ten new cadets for this year were a varied group – musicians, artists, athletes… the list went on.

The A-Squad was in the simulator this morning doing a program designed to help them hone their powers. The B-Squad was out on patrol. He glanced at his watch. It was almost seven-thirty. The official wake-up call was at seven, but most people in the building chose to get up earlier. Breakfast in the new cafeteria ended at nine – which was the absolute latest time for morning activities to start. Most started at eight.

The door chimes to his quarters rang. "Come in!" he called, knowing who it would be.

Paris Grayson walked into the room. She was wearing work-out clothing and looked slightly puzzled as to why she was being called to his quarters this early in the morning.

"Morning," he greeted. "Take a seat."

She had a neutral expression on her face as she gracefully sank down into the armchair opposite the couch. She might have been the A-Squad Pink Ranger, but no one would be able to tell it from her clothing – a white tank top and black work-out pants. Her morpher was clipped to her side. It was no longer a requirement for the rangers to have their morphers on them at all times, but most of them had them during the day.

"I'm putting you in charge of the fall play," he said without preamble.

Paris gaped at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"I don't know anything about a play!" she sputtered. "The last time the drama people got on the ball was back when I was still a cadet and they put on this crappy production of Peter Pan and no one came to it—"

Tommy let out a long breath. He tolerated a lot from her, just because he respected the fact that she was highly experienced as a patrol officer. But he wasn't budging on this issue. She was going to be in charge of the fall show.

"You can pick whatever show you want," he interrupted her tirade.

She stopped and looked at him warily. "Any show?"

"Any show."

Paris gave him a level gaze. "Chicago."

"Done," he said, having a feeling why she chose that particular show. It was about a bunch of women in jail who murdered their husbands. "I except you'll want to have auditions within the next two weeks, so I'll get all the paperwork to you by then." He paused. "I'll also give you top priority when I'm booking the auditorium."

She stood up, looking more annoyed than anything else. She paused at the door and turned back towards him. "Commander?"

"Yeah?"

"Having the Pink Ranger always be female is extraordinarily sexist and I would recommend rectifying that at the earliest possible moment before the feminists come down on your head."

With that, she was gone. Tommy shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was not sure why he put up with Paris – or most of the rangers for that matter. All of them – with the exceptions of Z, Trent and Austin – were difficult to work with. And certain rangers liked to protest everything, despite traditions associated with being a ranger. He glanced to the now-closed doors of his quarters.

At one time, he had been convinced that being a high school teacher would kill him. Now, that seemed like a quiet and sunny past he should aspire to.

* * *

The food replicator in the lounge was acting up again. One of the female cadets had come prowling around looking for an RA and Syd had been the only one they could find. It didn't make any sense why the cadets were so hung up on the replicator. Doctor Oliver had taken some of the grant money from Sky's dad and had a new cafeteria built – with a twenty-four hour snack bar. With fresh food available at all hours of the day and night, she couldn't fathom why someone would want such overly processed food.

Of course, that probably explained why she was now prowling around looking for Boom so she could turn in the work order. She let out a long breath – her and Sky were going out tonight and she was going to be late. It didn't bother her to be late, but for Sky, tardiness was the eighth deadly sin. Oh well – he was just going to have to get over it.

The lab door was open. She poked her head in. Ethan was behind one of the desks tinkering with his most recent project. Boom was nowhere to be found.

"Hey Ethan," she greeted. "Is Boom around?"

The current A-Squad Blue Ranger looked up and frowned. "He was here. I'm not sure where he got to." Ethan glanced at the form in her hands. "Work order?" She nodded. "Just drop it on his desk and I'll make sure he gets it."

"Thanks," she replied. "You have any wild and crazy plans for tonight?"

He snorted. "If you want maintenance on the zords finished and the new upgrades to the morphers, I think not."

Syd grinned. "See you around."

"See ya'," he called as she left the lab.

Heading back towards the lounge, she shook her head. Ethan worked harder than all of the other rangers combined. He had taken over Kat's old job and, when he became a ranger, never gave up that job. The ironic thing was that he loved the work – and was just as likely to procrastinate on his work and play a video game with Bridge and Boom. The three of them had been in the lab earlier that morning gushing about the latest game for the latest system. It all went over her head since that stuff didn't appeal to her.

"Hey Syd!"

Starting, she narrowly avoided a head-on collision with her older brother, Austin. He was a year her senior and the B-Squad Red Ranger. "What are you doing?" she gasped, one hand over her heart. "You scared me half to death!"

He held up the data pad he was holding. "Training schedule for next week." He tried to blow a strand of straight, blonde hair out of his eyes. It didn't work. Syd gave him a level glance. Since Doctor Oliver had reformed the rangers into an A-Squad and B-Squad, Red Rangers were responsible for their squad, along with setting training schedules.

"You need a haircut," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now excuse me, I'm late for my date."

"Uh-huh," he looked skeptical.

"What?" she said in exasperation. "I thought you liked Sky."

"I do," Austin replied defensively. "It's just that he's only a year older than me and I know how guys think and I really don't like you dating them."

"You don't care who Paris dates!"

"Yeah – about that. I was in a different galaxy when she was dating – and she hasn't had a boyfriend since I've been back on Earth so I haven't had an opportunity to…"

"To… what?"

"Never mind. Just be careful, okay?"

"I will," she promised, stepping around her older brother and getting back on course towards the lounge. The sad fact was that Paris scared Austin sometimes. It didn't matter that they were twins. Paris had strong opinions and expressed them loudly and exuberantly.

_Z, you are so lucky you don't have an older brother,_ she thought as she entered the lounge. What Austin didn't know was that her and Sky were lovers – Paris knew and her mother knew, while her father had an idea but kept his opinions on it to himself.

The lounge was fairly empty for a weeknight. The 'out of order' sign she had put on the food replicator was still in place. A few male cadets were playing video games, while two girls were at the counter in the corner giggling – and it was easy to see what the object of their giggles was. Sky was sitting on one of the couches playing solitaire with a random deck of cards. He was wearing khaki pants and a loose long-sleeved shirt that was dusty blue. And per usual, he was ignoring the girls and, what he deemed, their ridiculousness.

He looked up when she entered and smiled. "Hey," he greeted, standing up to meet her halfway. Their lips met in a gentle, soft kiss. She smiled.

"Sorry, I'm late." Syd paused. "I had to put in a work order for the replicator."

Sky glanced at the machine, then back to her. "I noticed," he replied dryly. "No one else would decorate the sign that much."

"You are such a guy," she muttered. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere but an ice cream place."

"You _ never_ want to go get ice cream."

"I don't like ice cream."

"You're weird too." She paused. Syd knew full well that he didn't like ice cream, but she couldn't refrain from ribbing him about it whenever it came up. "We could go to the pizza place." Sky nodded his agreement and took her hand, warm and secure.

* * *

The early morning mist and dew hadn't quite burned off the training field yet. The sun was rising, warm and golden – and Trent Fernandez wished he were still in bed. He pulled his hoodie tighter around himself and sipped a cup of scalding coffee. The burning coffee didn't bother him, since the sole purpose of it was to warm-up and wake-up. He had never been a morning person for as long as he could remember, always preferring late nights.

The rest of the A-Squad was straggling out to the practice field. The rehearsal dinner for Conner and Kira's wedding was that night. He snorted to himself. They were an odd couple, that much was for sure. He wasn't jealous – _couldn't_ be jealous. He had let Kira go years earlier, when neither of them had even graduated from college. They were different people and trying to wreck her relationship with Conner was just one idea doomed to fail. Besides, he really didn't want a replay of what had happened in their team fifteen years earlier.

He shivered, watching Ethan exit the building and make a beeline for him. Conner planned their training schedules now and it was obvious he preferred the morning – breakfast in the cafeteria hadn't even started yet and he dragged them out for training. Trent had to brew the coffee in the apartment he shared with Ethan.

"Run for your life," Ethan said, joining him on the track.

"Why?" Trent responded, stifling a yawn.

"I heard from Conner that Tommy put Paris in charge of the fall play."

"So?"

"She's recruiting."

That much sounded ominous. Trent shook his head, not sure what he could contribute to a play. Then again, the theater department at his college had always been after him to design sets and he had just avoided them. Well – it wouldn't matter if he got recruited or not. It wasn't like he was doing anything earthshaking right now. The extent of his current activities were being the A-Squad Green Ranger and teaching drawing classes once a week. The latter was more of an activity where everyone sat around with drawing pads for an hour. He didn't want to dictate what they should draw – he had too many professors that did that.

"Speak of the devil," Ethan muttered.

Trent looked up. Paris was exiting the building. It never failed to amaze him that her wardrobe was almost entirely black with the exception of a few tank tops and those purple sunglasses of hers. She had the sunglasses on this morning and the sunlight glinted off of them. How long was it going to be before another spiel got started about having females be the Yellow and Pink Rangers was sexist?

"You guys want to help out with the play, right?" she said with a large, false smile.

"What show are you doing?" Trent asked mildly.

"Chicago."

"That'll be fun."

"I think so." She paused and pinned Ethan with a severe look. The Blue Ranger winced under her gaze. "So, Ethan, I don't have a tech director yet…"

"No!"

"Oh come on! It's four shows – you can work your own schedule for working on stuff, I'll get you a crew and there's only really one week where we have to all be there at once!"

"Paris," Ethan retorted. "I don't have time!"

"You have time to play video games," she said under her breath before turning to Trent. "Production designer, please?"

Oh Lord – hell just froze over. Paris Grayson said please. Trent shrugged. "I suppose. You have a schedule for production crew meetings."

"Working on it as we speak. We have a preliminary meeting Monday, before auditions, so we can conceptualize things." She smiled at him before turning back to Ethan. "See," she said in a scathing tone. "Trent said he'd do it."

"Fine," Ethan grumbled. "But if the zords malfunction from lack of maintenance—"

"I'll take full responsibility. Jeez." She shook her head. "Don't be such a drama queen."

"Look who's talking!"

Their friendly argument about who was a bigger drama queen was cut short by the appearance of Conner and Kira. Trent frowned to himself, not entirely remembering the reason they needed to be out here at such an ungodly hour. He just hoped that they weren't running the mud swamp or something like that – he hoped he would have remembered something like that.

"We're doing the first obstacle course," Conner said.

"Fun – cargo nets," Ethan muttered.

"Is there a reason we're doing this so early in the morning?" Trent asked.

"It's booked all the rest of today." Conner paused and raked a hand through his hair. "It's not like I don't have to do this stuff too."

Trent watched out of the corner of his eye as Paris adjusted her ponytail. Her hair actually shone in the morning light – just like all those shampoo commercials. Was a real person's hair supposed to do that? There was something about her, he realized, that made his heart flutter. It was something he hadn't felt in a long time, not since… he abruptly shut down that train of thought. He was getting too old and the only relationship he could ever have with Paris was that of teammates.

"Trent and Paris, be partners."

He snapped to attention at Conner's statement. The first obstacle course had to be run in pairs, meaning they would be running it in cycles with one rest period per person. Great – he was being paired with Paris for the first time through, right when he had pinned down…

"Come on," Paris said to him, already striding for the first trail marker in the course. She turned with her hands on her hips. "Or are you afraid you're going to get trounced?"

"By you? Get real!"

"Race you!"

She took off in long, fluid strides. Trent shook his head and took off after her. He wasn't in bad physical shape – it was just that, after years of writing comics, coming back to being a ranger wasn't the easiest transition. Why did he always seem to fall for women that he couldn't have a lasting relationship with?

* * *

"Syd – it doesn't matter what you wear to the rehearsal dinner. No one is going to care!"

Z flopped down on her bed, exasperated. Only Syd could take forever to pick out what to wear to anything. Paris was sitting at the other end of Z's bed – having already picked out a dozen possible outfits. Z had chosen to wear a yellow skirt and matching tank top – probably the last wear she would get out of it before the cold started. Paris was wearing black pants with a black jacket – her top was made out of a black silky material and had dark purple trim.

"Just wear the green thing with some jeans," Paris added.

"Green thing?" Syd sounded offended as she picked up a green frilly top with pink stripes that she owned.

"It's green and it's a thing, so, therefore, it's a green thing."

Syd opened her mouth to say something, but Z beat her to it. "When are auditions?" she asked Paris, effectively changing the subject.

"Next Tuesday and Wednesday," Paris replied. "You trying out?"

"No, but I thought I might do stage crew."

"Great! I need a stage manager – you're hired!"

Z frowned, not having the faintest idea what a stage manager did. "Thanks, I think," she said. All she had been planning on doing was help paint some sets, sew some costumes – all the cadets could talk about was the show and she was volunteering her services to show support. Unlike Syd and Bridge, she had no desire to try out. She took a breath. "What does the stage manager do?"

"You're the boss backstage," Paris replied. "You coordinate all the entrance cues and sound cues and orchestrate set changes, things like that."

"Oh." Z glanced at her. "Can't I just paint sets?"

"No. I need competent people around in positions of power. You qualify."

"Oh." Z fell silent. Helping with a play was unlike anything she had ever done before. She briefly thought to the two names on the at-large list… that pimp house… She shuddered, before focusing her attention on Syd's never-ending wardrobe debate.

"Green thing," Paris repeated to Syd.

"Who else is involved?" Z asked.

"With the show?" Z nodded. "Not too many others – just production types. I still need an assistant director. I've been trying to think of the most anal retentive person I know."

"Good luck."

Syd finally picked out a clingy pink top and jeans and rushed into the bathroom to change. Z glanced over at Syd's side of the room, now strewn with her clothes. Believe it or not, that happened every time she had a date with Sky. She'd been dating him for just under a year and she still was worried about how she looked. Z sighed, glad that clothes were the least of her worries with Bridge.

Inkwell jumped up on the bed and into Paris' lap, where he blended in. "Hey Inky," Paris said absently to the kitten, stroking him between his ears. He began to purr a ten on Richter scale.

"Traitor," Z said to the kitten. The door buzzer went off. "Come in!" Z called.

The doors slid open to reveal Sky. "You guys ready?" he asked, looking around at the hurricane that ran through Syd's side of the room and then at the two girls sitting on Z's bed.

"Syd almost is," Z replied.

Then she noticed that Paris' eyes had lit up when Sky entered. She looked like she had eaten half a cheesecake and then hidden the other half, having no intention of revealing its whereabouts. "Sky," she said with a smile, standing up and linking her arm through his.

Sky was starting to look like a cornered animal. "What?" he asked warily.

"I need a favor…"

_ To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** I feel like these first few chapters will spend some time setting the scene - let me know if things start to put to you sleep! With that said, I was really excited to see that some of my all-time favorite reviewers are back for this piece. It makes me smile to know that you really do appreciate my work! I'm not expecting a huge reaction to this piece, but you guys make it worth it! TTFN. 


	3. Yellow Roses III

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Three: Yellow Roses III**

Blackmail – that's what was being done to him, pure and simple. How could he have let himself fall so far as to be blackmailed at all, let alone by Paris Grayson? She was the queen of manipulators and had managed to make her blackmail leverage seem a lot more severe than it actually was.

Sky sighed and leaned back in his chair at the rehearsal dinner. He absently twiddled with the edge of his napkin, ignoring the friendly chatter around him. Paris' sixteenth birthday was almost legend with the cadets at that time. The saying had been, if Drew threw a party, then anyone with a brain went. The parties were always awesome. Her birthday was in February, so it was cold and dismal, people hoping for spring. The short days and endless routine had put a bee in everyone's bonnet, so the birthday bash was met with much enthusiasm.

That was in a time when he and Dru had been close, before Dru got transferred to the Nebula Academy. He had been a party animal, just turned seventeen and finishing his second year at the academy. He knew Paris to see her, but wasn't friends with her, didn't associate with her group. There had been two groups of partiers – he had been in one and Paris in the other. It was well before Syd and Bridge joined the academy. It was also before being on the ranger track or the officer track made a difference in training.

Everyone had been excited about the party, the hum of anticipation building days beforehand. Underage drinking was an epidemic during that time, until Cruger cracked down and expelled a few people. That scared everyone, because, as much as they loved drinking and partying, they all wanted to be a part of SPD so badly it hurt. The party had turned out to be everything promised and more – and he didn't really remember much of what went on, just waking up in his bed the next morning with a massive hangover. It had actually been that party that caused most of the expulsions and rule-enforcement.

Assistant director for the fall play – that meant he had to be Paris' minion until the November run of the show. She _claimed_ she had pictures of him at the party. He didn't doubt that much, but he didn't know what was in the pictures – and she wasn't telling. All of the pictures from that party would feature people with cups of alcohol (they had enough alcohol to stock a couple Las Vegas casino bars), but it could be worse. And he didn't remember what he did that night and really didn't want Paris showing possibly incriminating pictures to Syd.

He internally shook his head. That party and the consequences still puzzled him. The parties always took place in the lounge, which wasn't too bright of all the underage alcohol-consuming cadets, but none of them got busted before. In fact, he wasn't sure if he was there when the party was busted. Dru had remembered nothing more than he did. For some unknown reason, Paris, the birthday girl, hadn't been expelled. And, if he and Dru had been around during the raid, the pair of them would have been prime candidates for expulsion.

That party had been part of his wake-up call. He had come infinitely close to being thrown out of the organization he had dreamed of joining. It scared him, it really did. So he started down the path of going the opposite direction from being a party animal.

"I didn't know you drank, Sky."

He snapped out of his reverie to Bridge's question. His best friend was sitting across the table from him, frowning. Sky stared at the drinks that had just been brought to the table. He had a glass of water and what appeared to be coke.

"Jack and coke?" Z prompted.

Sky inwardly groaned. Had he been so spaced out that, when the owner of the restaurant asked for bar orders, he had ordered something from the bar? The drink made sense – he almost exclusively drank Jack and coke at the parties he and Dru went to. He had lost his taste for beer and wine a long time ago and preferred mixed drinks. But no one on the B-Squad knew that, since he had stopped partying by the time they joined the academy. He and his dad would drink at home occasionally…

"Yeah," he replied sharply.

Syd, who was sitting next to him, gave him a curious look. He could have banged his head against the table – on his twenty-first birthday back in January, he hadn't gone on a drinking binge like most. His parents threw a small party to coincide because Jen had found out about her pregnancy with his younger sister and was being allowed to stay in the present. The lavish party had been awkward for him and he preferred the store-bought cake and sherbet that his dad and Taylor had for him.

Syd, Bridge and Z were frowning at him. There was no way he could explain things to them… not at all. All three of them seemed extremely innocent when paired next to the prospect of drunken revelry. Z, not so much, but Bridge and Syd?

His severe expression softened. "You want to taste it?" he asked them.

Three puzzled looks immediately changed into interest. "Sure," Z said. "This one halfway house I used to go to handed out vodka for medicinal purposes."

"Vodka?" Bridge asked.

"Medicinal purposes?" Sky asked at the same time.

Z shrugged as she pulled his glass towards herself. "It was for the alcoholics. I didn't take any of it because I didn't need it." She paused as she took a sip of his drink. "I needed some of the other stuff they handed out."

No one needed elaboration on that. Z passed the glass to Bridge. He tasted it, looking faintly puzzled. "It just tastes like flat coke."

"That's the point," Sky replied as the drink got passed to Syd.

She didn't appear impressed by the overall effect, handing the glass back to him. "So how did you get recruited to be assistant director?" she asked.

"It's a long story," he replied evasively, not wanting to mention the blackmail.

"Kind of like why you want to drink flat coke?" Bridge added.

He shrugged. "It would take a lot more than this to get me wasted." Sky paused and inwardly swore. He really hoped he just imagined saying that aloud.

"Wasted?" Z asked with a snicker. "I can't imagine you wasted."

No – he just said it aloud. He didn't reply.

"Is it another really long story?" Bridge asked, looking like a Chester cat.

"Yes," he retorted. This was getting ridiculous.

"Sky getting wasted…" Z trailed off into numerous snickers.

"Can we change the subject, please?" he asked loudly. He glanced at Syd. She was frowning and he knew that the current subject was not put to rest, not between him and his girlfriend at any rate.

* * *

"Everyone is trying out for the show right?" Bridge glanced up as Paris paused. "People who have already been recruited as production crew are excluded, as are the honeymooners."

The only people left after that announcement was himself, Doctor O, Austin and Syd. He and Syd were already planning on trying out for the show. It had been made abundantly clear that the auditions were open to all cadets, officers and support staff. Bridge couldn't quite see Austin trying out for a musical. He might have tried out if the audition didn't involve singing and dancing. Bridge grinned to himself. He and Syd were already working on the dancing and the singing (Paris had handed out mini-discs with the audition numbers.)

Syd had been talking non-stop about how she wanted to be the lead, Roxie Hart. Bridge didn't really care what part he got – he just wanted to audition. Since he had been at SPD, the drama department hadn't revived enough to do a full show.

"Is it bad that I fall under the category of 'production crew' and I'm still not sure what the stage manager does?" Z commented.

"What is it with her and her ability to focus the entire situation on herself?" Austin grumbled. He was giving Paris a scathing glance. "We're at a _rehearsal dinner_," he stressed. "Shouldn't we all be gushing about Conner and Kira or something?"

"She has middle child syndrome," Syd said, delicately spearing some cheesecake onto her fork. Bridge had to admit, Z had a great idea holding the rehearsal dinner here. Mrs. Mancuso's cooking was unbeatable.

"I think it's more complicated than that," Austin said darkly.

Bridge didn't bother trying to break into the conversation that the Grayson siblings were having. When any combination of the three of them started an argument or debate, it was better to leave them to their own devices unless gunshots sounded. He pushed his desert plate away from him and focused on the current activity – trying to balance his spoon on his nose. So far, it had been a fruitless endeavor.

The spoon slipped off the end of his nose and fell to the table with a clatter. He picked up, rubbing it on his napkin and tried again. "Give it up, Bridge," Sky said from across the table. His roommate was also done with desert and his arm was slung casually over the back of Syd's chair. Syd was focusing entirely on her cheesecake and argument with Austin.

"I think this should be an Olympic sport," Bridge replied.

"You need more practice if you want a medal," Z told him.

"Don't encourage him." Sky paused. "You don't share a room with him."

"Nope," Z agreed. "But then again, spoon antics don't bother me." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. Bridge felt a faint flush in his cheeks and a goofy grin spread over his face. He knew that Z loved him, but there was something about displays of affections that made him feel all the more… loved. His adopted parents had been afraid to touch him after they learned what his powers were. Since before he started school, they wouldn't touch him. It was hard to go through childhood with parents that wouldn't hug him.

He brightened as he attempted the spoon again. His real parents were nothing like that. There were times he thought his mother didn't want to _stop_ hugging him. He didn't see them as much as he wanted – they lived on Mirinoi and with his baby brother, Jordan, it made travel more difficult. They were due to come to Earth for Thanksgiving, while his Uncle Leo and Aunt Kendrix would be on Earth in October. And with Z, Sky and Syd, it wasn't an issue. He had learned to block out a lot of the involuntary psychometrics and telepathy, so that he didn't pick up things he didn't want to. The three of them knew that he wasn't out to find their dirty secrets.

"I want to know how much you partied before we joined SPD," Syd was questioning Sky. Bridge caught the spoon as it slipped off his nose and gave Sky a sympathetic look. He didn't know a lot about Sky's relatively brief party animal period and he knew that Sky really didn't like to talk about it.

"Like what?" Sky asked, avoiding answering.

"Time frame," Syd prompted.

"The two years before you joined."

"And?"

"And _ what_?"

"How did you guys get alcohol on SPD grounds?"

Sky looked uncomfortable. "There are ways," he replied evasively.

"Come on!" Syd cried. "You would think I've never been to a party or anything like that from the way he's avoiding things."

"Trust me – you've never been to the kind of party we used to have."

"He's right." Bridge picked up the spoon again as Paris joined them. "Those were some seriously intense parties. We don't have parties like that anymore." She propped her head on her arm, looking thoughtful. "There was that one party we had, must have been the fall of my first year – the one where Dan and his bunch went streaking through the girls' floor—"

"—and Susie threw up in the punch bowl," Sky finished.

"Yeah, that party!" Paris nudged Austin. "You were there."

"Not by choice," he grumbled.

"Wait a minute!" Syd interrupted the reminiscing. "You mean that all three of you were at a party where people went streaking and someone threw up in a punch bowl?" The twins and Sky nodded. "Why am I just now hearing about this?" She looked offended.

"I didn't really know him," Paris said, indicating Sky. She started to look thoughtful again. "Those were some good times."

"If you call getting wasted every weekend fun," Sky muttered.

"We were all young and naïve with stars in our eyes—"

"Are you hearing this?" Austin muttered.

"At any rate," Paris continued, directing her words at Syd. "Cruger cracked down after my sixteenth birthday party and, by the time you joined in the fall, there were no more crazy, drunken parties. It got really boring."

Bridge jumped as his cell phone rang. The spoon dropped to the floor, the noise muffled by the carpet. He pulled his phone out of his pocket – he hadn't had the phone long. His adopted parents had been too cheap to get him one. His parents, on the other hand, wanted him to have one for emergencies and so that they could be sure to get in touch with him. He glanced at the number – it was one he vaguely recognized… Oh no… His heart sank into his stomach and the food he had eaten started to churn in his stomach.

"Who's calling?" Z asked.

The phone stopped ringing, meaning his voicemail would pick it up. He stood up shakily from the table. "I'll be back," he said quickly, hurrying out the front door of the restaurant.

The night air was cool. He sank down onto a stone bench outside, taking deep, gulping breaths. The cool air stung his lungs, but he welcomed the sensation, knowing he was alive and awake, not in some ill-conceived nightmare. His thoughts were racing. How did _they_ get his phone number? It didn't make sense.

The phone beeped, indicating that he had a new voicemail message. Mechanically, he hit the speed dial for the voicemail and followed all the instructions until the new message played.

_Hi Bridge. It's Marie… your adopted mother, I suppose. I know we haven't talked in a while and that we didn't part on the best of terms, but… you're still my son. I still care about you and I'd like to talk. Please… you know the number at the house…_

The message ended and he erased it. The shock and surprise had worn off. He felt angry, but just as acutely he felt guilty. He knew he had no reason to feel guilty. His adopted parents ignored him – wouldn't hug him! After he joined SPD, they wouldn't call him. If he wanted to talk, he had to call them. After a few months, he stopped calling them and just went home with Sky for holidays. When he discovered his real parents, there hadn't even been a glimmer of a protest when his guardianship was given to them. While he was happy with his real parents, knowing their love for him was absolute, it had hurt that his adopted parents hadn't cared enough to say goodbye.

_I lived with you for twelve years! You never loved me – I was freak._ Bridge took a deep, calming breath. His throat burned from unshed tears. He hated crying with a passion, but he seemed to do it more often than the rest of the human population.

_I am Bridge Corbett, _he thought. _Bridge Jara Corbett… my middle name is for the elder of my mother's tribe. I am the son of Mike and Maya Corbett. They have always and will always love me unconditionally for what I am! I am not a freak… I am not a freak…_

One sob shuddered through him, followed by another one. He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to get a grip on his emotions. A tear fell down his cheek and he wiped furiously at it. After three years of silence, they were trying to come back into his life. Once he finally put his shattered life back together, they had to come along and threaten it all!

The sobs wracked his body and tears slipped down his cheeks.

* * *

"He's been out there for a long time. I'm going to check on him."

Z stood up, reaching for her sweater. It wasn't like Bridge to spend forever on the phone, unless he was talking to his parents – and he would have picked up right away if it had been them and he probably wouldn't have bothered to take the conversation outside. There might be a simple explanation for things, but that phone call had spooked Bridge.

She moved away from the table, the others giving her neutral responses – Syd was still trying to get party stories out of the twins and Sky. Pushing through the front door of the restaurant, the night air hit her in a gust. It was cool – the sky ink black and studded with stars. It was a comfortable night – one where she would have wanted to go stargazing with a blanket and mug of hot chocolate.

Bridge was sitting on the stone bench just outside. He was still, but his arms were wrapped around his middle. Z inwardly shook her head. He had been crying, she could deduce that much from his position. He hated for other people to see him cry – even if it was just her or Sky. In that light, she was glad the storm had passed. He didn't want others to see him lose control of his emotions.

"Hey," she said softly, sitting on the bench next to him.

He looked up at her, his blue eyes bloodshot and puffy. Her suspicions were confirmed. Whoever had been on the phone, it had really upset him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, gently kissing his temple.

"Who was on the phone?"

Bridge let out a long shuddering breath. "My adopted mother," he whispered.

Z sighed. She had never met the woman who had been Bridge's mother for twelve years – he had stopped talking to her by the time she met him. The woman hadn't called for three years. What could have possibly possessed her to start now? Bridge had always felt some guilt for cutting off communication, thinking it hurt them. No, he had been convinced that it had hurt them somehow. It was a lie that Bridge fervently believed. He had nothing to feel guilty about, since those people were probably glad to unload him at SPD.

"What did she want?"

"To talk."

"Are you going to talk to her?"

"I don't know."

She laid her head against his shoulder, glad that he was relaxing into her embrace. What he really needed to do was call his parents. Part of the original purpose of them getting him the cell phone was so that he didn't have to go through intergalactic operators to get in touch with them. It was an intergalactic cell phone, allowing him to call other planets – Earth colonies or Outer Worlds.

"Don't we make a pair?" she whispered. "Both running from the past." Bridge glanced down at her, the ghost of a smile over his lips. She straightened up. "I think you need to call your parents." She didn't elaborate that, especially right now, he needed to hear the massive different between his adopted parents and his real parents. Hell, if his mother thought he needed her badly enough, she wouldn't hesitate to get on the next shuttle to Earth without a second glance to any of her other responsibilities.

"I'll call them later tonight," he said softly. "Time difference."

Z shook her head. "They won't care if you wake them up, especially if you're upset."

"I don't want to wake up Jordan."

His newborn brother didn't even sleep through the night yet – Z couldn't see how waking him up would be a big deal. Then again, Bridge had spent a month with the baby over the summer and probably knew a lot more about it than she did.

"I don't like how that woman upsets you," Z said bluntly. "Want me to go beat her up? I could firebomb her house."

Bridge smiled at the dark humor. "Firebomb?"

"Well, a Molotov cocktail would work just as well."

"You've made one before?"

"I've seen them made before."

That got a laugh out of him. "Just leave it alone," he said, shaking his head. "I'll deal with it… eventually."

Z stood up and held out a hand to him. "Come on, someone is going to start asking questions – and Mrs. Mancuso is due to start seconds on desert."

Bridge took her hand and stood up, allowing himself to be led back into the restaurant. He took a detour to the bathroom to wash his face as Z sat down at the table. Syd was pouting, probably because no one was telling her good party stories. Bridge came back and sat down. Z couldn't shake the image of his haunted eyes from her mind – it scared her.

_ To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone for your continued support of this piece! I'm glad it's getting moderate success. With that said, I'd just like to issue more of the same. The feedback has been great so far - keep it! (And yes, BloomingViolets, I did get your e-mail! It made me smile!) So, may the force be with you. TTFN. 


	4. Yellow Roses IV

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Four: Yellow Roses IV**

Syd leaned her chin against her hands, elbows propped on the table. Sighing, she began to twist a stray strand of hair around her fingers. This was Conner and Kira's wedding reception – wasn't she supposed to be having fun? Smoothing down the bodice of her pink bridesmaid's dress, her azure eyes scanned the dance floor. The people down there looked like a rainbow – Kira had made it clear that this was a ranger wedding, so everyone had to wear their colors. It was true, almost all the guests had been rangers at one point in time.g

Her thoughts hadn't been able to settle down since the rehearsal dinner. For some reason, she just couldn't integrate the mental image of party animal Sky with the man she knew and loved. It shouldn't be such a big deal – it was obviously a part of Sky's life that he was not proud of and didn't want to talk about. She should have seen it coming, when Dru asked last year if Sky was still 'wild and wacky.' It was hard to imagine Sky getting drunk and, to a lesser degree, Paris, but it had happened. She remembered the stories that cadets ahead of her told – it wasn't just a party animal group, it was all of them.

She sighed again. Sky was the only member of the B-Squad to turn twenty-one in the past year, although Paris was already making plans for her twenty-first birthday which was in February.

"You look pensive." Her older sister sat down at the empty table with her. "Something the matter? I swear Sky hasn't been near the bar."

"It's not that and you're not funny." Syd paused. What was it then? She glanced at Paris, who was also wearing a pink bridesmaid dress – and had protested loudly every step of the way. She had a brief stint as B-Squad Black Ranger and had wanted a black dress. It was ironic, the way the pair of them had turned out as Pink Rangers.

"I think it is." Paris stopped for a minute, pulling a flower from the centerpiece at the table and tucking it behind her ear. "You just think you don't know him – well, you do. If he doesn't talk about all that past stuff, it's because it's not important. Of all the boys around this place, he's the one I would trust to date you."

"He lied about it."

"He didn't lie – you didn't ask, so he didn't tell. Has he ever flat-out denied that he used to party and go drinking every weekend?"

"No—"

"And it was four years ago – _four years_!" Paris paused. "Longer than that now. More like five years."

"And your point is?"

"My point is that you can't decide what you want. A couple days ago, you wanted more wild and crazy party stories and today you've convinced yourself that you were lied to." Paris let out a dramatic breath. "When you do figure out what you want, there will be a parade."

"Look who's talking," Syd muttered.

"Hey, I know what I want. I'm going to marry a rock star and own four houses with a full staff who will wait on me hand and foot—"

"Don't you have someone else to torture?"

"No, but I can take a hint. I'll go check out the desert table."

Syd shook her head. She was going to have to ask their parents if they were sure that Paris was related to them. Her dad claimed most of it was because Paris hung out with their Uncle Ryan when she was little. Uncle Ryan was an anthropologist, specializing in demons, possessions and exorcisms. She was still working _that_ one out.

"What's the matter?"

She looked up and watched Sky took Paris' chair. She gave him a brief smile. "Nothing is the matter – why are you guys ganging up on me?"

"Something is wrong," he said. "And I get the feeling it has to do with me."

"I just can't believe that you guys used to party, but no one talks about it."

To her surprise, Sky grinned. "It was what we all did," he replied. "We were not overly bright, but all those drug education, alcohol education, sex ed – none of that was part of our schoolwork. Most of us knew better, but didn't care."

"Did you ever sleep around?" There – she had just admitted to herself and Sky what had really been bothering her. The fact that he partied had nothing to do with it – he and Dru were still the top two cadets in their class despite it.

"No," he replied. "Now that I think about it, we were extremely bored."

Syd reluctantly cracked a smile. "You guys were bored?"

"I said we were bored – I didn't say we were bright."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just—"

"Don't apologize." He paused and glanced over at Paris, who was now harassing Doctor Oliver by the desert buffet. "Unlike some people, I know that it was stupid." He stood up and offered a hand to her. "May I have this dance?"

Syd smiled fully, stifling a laugh. "Of course." She took his hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor. A slow song was playing and most of the couples were on the dance floor in each other's arms. Bridge and Z were cuddled in one corner, while Conner and Kira were in the center of the floor, oblivious to everything except each other. Sky's arms were around her waist as she threaded her arms around his neck, laying her head against his shoulder. All the doubts and worries seemed to fade as they swayed to the music. It was safe and secure being in his arms – far away from all their worldly cares.

She thought to some of the things that only a select group knew about Sky. He could dance, didn't like to admit to it. And he could play the piano. Both of those had been things his father made him learn, claiming he would thank him for it later. He could cook – a necessity owing to the fact that it had just been him and his dad growing up. Slightly lactose intolerant, he could handle dairy products in small doses (like on a pizza or in pasta), but wouldn't eat ice cream because it made his stomach hurt. Her and Bridge had him helping them with their music auditions for the show, since he did have an ear for music.

There was so much more to him than he let others see.

"How much longer until the baby's born?" she asked softly.

He snorted. "Any day now," he replied.

"You don't sound excited."

"Were you at that baby shower?" He paused. "I guess it was a necessary evil. Jen wanted to stay here with Wes… and me. It was the most logical and surefire way to make sure Time Force granted her request."

"Did they ever decide on a name?"

"Gemma Marie," he replied. "She's going to need a nickname." He fell silent for a moment. "And Taylor and my dad are getting married in February," he trailed off with a sigh. "It just seems like everything is changing so fast."

"Don't feel bad," she replied. "You were at the last Mitchell family reunion."

He looked thoughtful. "I got hit in the head with a Frisbee and one of your great aunts spent the whole picnic hitting on me – I see your point."

"And let's not forget the hall event that Paris planned for us where Uncle Ryan is going to come in and purify people's rooms." She shook her head. "How did she manage to recruit you for the show?"

"She'll have everyone recruited by the time things are all said and done."

"This is true." Syd lifted her head from his shoulder and accepted a soft, open-mouthed kiss from him.

* * *

Trent leaned back in his chair at the reception. Weddings were fun – all the ones he had been invited to were. It was the celebration of a new phase in a couple's life. However, he had never pictured that couple to be Conner and Kira. If someone had mentioned that in high school, he would have laughed. His reasoning would be that the wedding would be like watching a train wreck – so horrific that one could not tear their gaze away.

The reception was winding down. Madeline and Christina, Conner's girls, were staying with Conner's brother, Eric, while the newlyweds were on their brief honeymoon. Most of the guests outside the SPD rangers had already made their excuses and were heading home. The dance floor was sparsely populated with mostly established couples.

It was a scene that he felt he couldn't take part of. He had been successful in his own right – saw cadets every day that read his comics. A couple of art galleries housed his paintings and drawings – some people even commissioned him to do portraits. When he had been away from art, he had worked in the human resources department of Anton Mercer Industries. His adopted father was still going strong, but Trent knew that he hadn't quite given up on the idea of him taking over one day.

The main table for the wedding party was long and at the front of the room. He had angled his chair around one end. His fingers itched as he realized he wanted to draw. His eyes fell on the lone figure at the opposite end of the table. Paris was scribbling something on a paper napkin, stopping every so often to think. He pulled a fountain pen from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and found an unused paper napkin. Her hair was slipping out of its French braid and she had a flower tucked behind her ear. Perfect…

Without thinking, he began to sketch her like that, hunched over the napkin, deep in concentration about something. He glanced up every so often and caught Austin taking a seat next to Paris. He didn't know her twin as well as he knew her.

"Two minutes ago you were terrorizing people by the desert bar." Austin shook his head. "You sure are schizo."

"For your information, I'm working on the rehearsal schedule for Chicago."

"Oh yeah?" He looked interested. "So how are the plans for auditions coming?"

"Think Doctor O would notice if I blackmailed people into auditioning?" She sighed. "I don't know if I'm going to get enough people to cast the show."

The twins were mirrors of each others. It was amazing how, despite being different genders, they had the same facial features, hair color and texture, eye color and a similar build. Austin was taller than Paris, but not by a lot. Without thinking, he began to sketch Austin into the drawing as well – it made a great picture.

The pair was gazing out at the dance floor. Austin shook his head. "Sometimes I don't know about Syd dating Sky."

"Oh come on – there's worse guys out there."

"I know. It doesn't stop me from worrying."

"Did you have an ulcer when you were separated from us by a galaxy because you couldn't be an overprotective watchdog?"

"Sort of." He paused. "Remember when you got sent to that school…"

Paris grimaced. "How could I forget? And it wasn't a school – it was a combination of prison and boot camp."

"That scared me. Syd and I couldn't visit or write… or anything. All we had was _ their_ unreliable word that you were all right."

Trent tore his attention away from the sketch and their conversation. He didn't want to listen in on something that was obviously private. The twins were twenty – but it seemed like they had been through much more than anyone else that age. It was that way with all of them – all the kids who had been kidnapped or hidden. At twenty, he had been in art college, up to his ears in paint, clay and charcoal. He had permanently paint-spattered clothes and ink-stained hands – and he had loved every moment of it.

He couldn't help but think that it might be good for most of these kids to leave SPD for a while and go to college, study something they liked, get a degree… there was so much more to the world than being a ranger and SPD. Each of them deserved to go out there and find out what they really loved.

"Sky!" Paris was yelling. "I need to know when you have night shift!"

"Can't stop drawing for a minute, can you?"

Trent glanced up as Ethan pulled up the chair next to him. It was odd sharing an apartment with Ethan, but worked out well since neither of them were particularly neat and didn't mind clutter all over the place. As long as the couch was clear, that was all that mattered.

"Nope," he replied with a smile.

"Think this play is going to kill us?" Ethan nodded towards Paris, who had stopped harassing Sky when he promised to get her his schedule by tomorrow morning.

"That is the question." Trent paused. "I need to know what kind of budget we're on before I can finalize any set designs."

"I hear that – I haven't had a chance to inventory any of the equipment. I have a feeling we're going to need new lights and sound equipment, especially since this is a musical."

The current A-Squad Green Ranger couldn't help but feel that it was a little ambitious for a first show to kick-start the drama department. From what he knew of _Chicago_, it was going to involve a lot more than tame love ballads and tap numbers. "Who does she plan on choreographing all of this?" he asked.

"You've got me there." Ethan shrugged. "Then again, it's not really my business. I'm just the technical director." He shook his head. "We've got to get a budget, because I need to coordinate most of this stuff with you."

He nodded in commiseration. A choreographer was going to be a problem, since he couldn't think of anyone at SPD that danced professionally at all. They would also need a music director – the canned music would help with that. This was proving to be a massive undertaking that would occupy most of them until the November run of the show.

Glancing back to Paris, he saw that she and Kira were talking about something. He let out a long breath. Why her? Why now?

* * *

Conner blinked as he sat down at the main table with Kira, mentally checking to make sure he had done all the things he needed to before taking off. He had submitted the A-Squad's training schedule for the next two weeks so that no one had to worry about it. Ethan was going to be in charge next week, because being the Blue Ranger made him second-in-command. All he was going to have to do was corral Trent and Paris. And he had made sure that they didn't have training sessions at the crack of dawn.

Eric, his brother, and his wife were taking the girls for the week – something both of them were excited about since his brother spoiled them rotten. They had already left the reception and he was dropping the girls off at their house before catching his plane tomorrow. Aside from dodging Paris and her proposals to get involved with the show, he couldn't see what else needed to be done. And, as he had told Paris many times, he didn't have the extra time to work on the show, because he was in charge of getting the sports started up.

"You're thinking too hard," Kira said.

He grinned sheepishly. "It's hard letting go."

"It's just a week – and I'm sure things will fall apart without you."

Conner glowered at her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. He fought the urge to roll his eyes – she did this to egg him on. He had spent his initial time as a ranger at SPD with four of the B-Squad members and had become overprotective of them. Even now, with most of the former Dino Rangers on his team, it was hard to leave them. The first time around as rangers, he had cared about all of them – just had a weird way of showing it.

Of course, with Ethan in charge, he was just as likely to declare a holiday week where they slept in and watched movies during training. Ethan, Trent and Paris were eerily similar when they decided to revolt and do something fun.

"No," he grumbled. "But they get to play soccer while I'm stuck in art galleries."

Kira shoved his arm. "What's wrong with art galleries?"

"Nothing!" he said quickly. "I just—"

"Don't even go there."

Most of the wedding guests had left – the only people left were the rangers and Doctor Oliver. It was apropos – they were a family. Being a ranger drew odd people together and forced them to get along and function as a group. There were biological family members and then there were ranger family members.

"Should we head out?" Conner asked.

Kira nodded. "These guys need to get back. I know some of them have patrol shifts tomorrow."

"And the boys' have a floor meeting?"

"Again?"

"Something about Light-Ball in the corridors and someone with a black eye."

She stifled a laugh. "Things are never dull around here."

He let his glance go to the dance floor. The only ones out there with any sort of rhythm were Sky and Z – both of which were attempting to pound some rhythm into the others. Snatches of conversation before revealed that Paris and Syd had taken some ballet when they had been younger in an attempt to make them graceful (Austin had been in Little League.) Sky actually had taken professional ballroom and swing dancing for a long time. Bridge and Z had no dance lessons, but Z didn't need them.

Shaking his head, he stood up. "Let's go. This bunch could entertain themselves for hours."

* * *

"Thanks again for the ride."

"Not a problem – I like you guys."

Z leaned into Bridge's embrace in the backseat of Paris' car. Austin was sitting shotgun. She felt her eyes drooping shut, but she couldn't remember the last time she had had as much fun. Who knew that weddings were that much fun?

The world whipped past. The reasons surrounding Paris' car were hazy, but Syd had said that she made a deal with her Uncle Ryan. He was footing the insurance bill while she made the car payments. Once the car was paid off, she would take over the insurance. The car was five years old, an ugly plum purple shade and looked ready to fall apart, but, surprisingly, ran well. Turtle Cove was twenty minutes from Newtech, so Z and her parents hadn't seen a need for her to get a car.

"Don't you like Syd?" Austin asked innocently.

"When she's not irritating me."

"That's most of the time."

She met Bridge's gaze. Paris cared a lot more about Syd than she would let anyone else believe. She had listened to more tales of woe than any siblings had a right to. In fact, to hear Paris talk, everyone annoyed her. She shook her head.

All the wedding planning had made her think about her own future. For a long time, she hadn't been able to think much further ahead than the next hour or day, but now… she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Oh – she could stay with SPD. She had already earned her G.E.D. while working here. Newtech University offered discounted classes to SPD personnel. But what would she do at college? Again, she didn't know.

But she wanted Bridge with her though. The pair of them was only eighteen, but so much had happened that cemented their relationship. This could last for a long time. Marriage and kids were still a long way off – all their talk about that had been flippant, but had some meaning. Bridge's younger brother was two months old.

She shivered, thinking back to her life on the streets. Why did those memories come to haunt her when she felt the happiest? She desperately wanted to forget the cold, the pain, the isolation, the people who hurt her, used her… but she couldn't.

_How can I have a future if I live in the past?_

Bridge's blue eyes were giving her a questioning look. She gave him a brief smile. He would always be there for her – he was her anchor, her rock, what kept her grounded in the here and now. She loved him so much…

"So, what do you guys say? You up for root beer floats at my apartment?"

She snapped to attention, realizing she had missed most of the conversation Paris and Austin had been having. "Sure," Bridge replied, squeezing her hands. And he loved her…

_ To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Since it's been a Star Wars-y kind of week and I live on the Star Wars floor of my dorm, I'll leave you guys with one message: May the Force be with you. 


	5. Good Intentions I

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Five: Good Intentions I**

Auditions would go well – if people had followed instructions to begin with. Sky let out a long breath, dutifully writing down more names on the clipboard. The chaos was not due to a lack of organization on Paris' part – it had been spelled out clearly that people wishing to audition needed to leave their name and contact information in her box and she would, in turn, get them a copy of the audition material within twenty-four hours. If that were the case, they would already have a neat list of all the expected people.

However – some of the potential audition-seekers had gotten copies of the material from their friends and co-workers, meaning fifteen or twenty more people showed up than expected and he had to get their names and contact information down before anything could move forward. Paris was ready to kill someone and this first round was going to last all night – literally all night for Paris and he since they had to get a call-back list ready. At least most of these people had come early (or more, Paris had said auditions started at seven, but had no intention of actually starting until seven-thirty.)

He glanced at his watch – it was seven-twenty.

The auditorium doors opened and closed with a bang. He inwardly sighed, hoping that it was just late people and not more unexpected audition people. Glancing over his shoulder, he let out an inward sigh of relief. It was just Syd and Bridge. Paris must have told them they didn't really need to be here until seven-thirty.

"Hey, Sky," Syd greeted pressing a kiss to his cheek as the last of the unofficial people wandered off to the front rows where everyone was gathered.

"Hey," he responded. "You guys missed the chaos."

"We have connections," she replied with a sniff, before she grinned. "Where's Paris?"

"You mean Miss 'I'm in charge of the world, just give me my crown and scepter?'" He shrugged, then pointed to the front of the auditorium. "You might want to get with the others."

Syd just smiled and rolled her eyes. Bridge followed.

"Break a leg!" he called.

Bridge turned and gave him a 'thumbs-up.'

Sky watched idly as Paris climbed up on the stage. "Schuyler Collins, get up here now!" she yelled, being heard perfectly despite the lack of microphone. Rolling his eyes, he stood up with the clipboard that housed all the audition information and got up on stage. Paris looked a little intimidating in a black tank top and pants, a black cardigan tied around her waist, a black beret and the purple sunglasses. Either that or she just looked insane…

"Welcome to _Chicago_ auditions," she greeted the people gathered in the first three rows. She was projecting well – it was almost a shame no one could cast her in this play. "I'm Paris Grayson, director and all that hoopla. This is Sky Collins." She indicated him. "He is the assistant director. Now, the procedure is going to be very simple – we'll start with the singing audition and move on to the dancing." She gave the clipboard Sky was holding a pointed look. "When your name is called, please come up on stage." She went on to detail how much of the song each person was supposed to sing.

Situated in the front row a few moments later, Sky was wondering what possessed half these people to try out. They had started with the women and it was alphabetical – or as alphabetical as he could get it in a short time. Some of them had passable voices and would probably work out in the chorus – that final decision would come with the dancing.

The women's singing passed without much variation – the bright spots were Syd, who he had known could sing, a brunette cadet with a good alto and a patrol officer who had a powerful voice he would describe as gospel.

The men's singing turned out to be a lot more bearable. Most of the men auditioning were much more confident with their voices than the women and it wasn't painful to listen to them sing. After two patrol officers and a cadet, it was Bridge's turn.

Sky felt his jaw drop the minute Bridge started. He had no idea that his roommate and best friend could sing that well – and he was able to convey emotion with the words, something that was going to have to be worked on with the others.

"Did you know he could sing?" Paris hissed.

"Sort of," he shot back.

"That's—wow." She tapped the clipboard with her pen. "He's the best we've seen all night. It's just—wow."

The dancing went much better than the singing since most people had years of physical training – dancing wasn't too big a stretch. Sky couldn't help but feel extremely happy when the last round of dancing went and Paris got back up on the stage to dismiss everyone.

"Thank you," she started. "We'll have the call-back sheet up tomorrow – and remember that call-backs do not mean anything since we might already know where we're placing you."

Paris sank down into the chair next to him as the crowd departed. She turned to him. "Well, we have our leads. It's the rest of the Cellblock Tango and the choruses that are making me nervous."

Sky didn't answer. Now that the daunting task of getting through auditions was over, they had the next monumental task of deciding which parts they could cast and who needed to be called back for further analysis – that also came with trying to decipher his handwriting. He handed Paris the notes on each audition, putting the blank cast sheet on top of the clipboard. Why – why had he let himself get blackmailed into this? His pen was nowhere to be found…

He inwardly swore. He glanced at Paris. She frowned. "What?"

"I lost my pen."

"You're a mess," she muttered and pulled another pen from her bag. "Here." She paused and gave him a look. "Are we on the same page for the leads?"

"Yes," he said shortly. "I think."

"All right – write this down."

"Am I your assistant or your secretary?"

"I don't know – which would you like to be?"

Sky fought the urge to growl and roll his eyes. "What am I writing?"

"Roxie Hart – Syd, Billy Flynn – Bridge…" She gave him a sharp jab in the ribs. "Are you paying attention? It's not like I want to do this any more than you do!"

"I know!" His temper was wearing thin. "And you want Violet as Velma Kelly, Kate as Mama Morton and Sharpton as Amos. I got that!"

"Do you need a hug?"

Sky stared at her. From the look on her face, she was completely serious. No wonder her own twin claimed not to know her most of the time. He was really regretting deciding to help at all – but he was afraid, afraid of what those pictures might have in them. Syd had already gotten upset that he hadn't come clean about the partying earlier… but… God, it shouldn't matter. It was all in the past and people were dredging it up!

A few hours later, his eyes were itching with tiredness, but they had narrowed down who was definite casting material and who they needed to look at again. Relatively few people were being regulated to stage crew since they needed almost everyone who auditioned to perform. They said their goodnights and went their separate ways.

It was official – this play was going to kill him.

* * *

The time was nearing midnight – Bridge knew that it was past light-outs. In fact, he should have been in his own room and not the lounge to set a good example. But, he felt better in the lounge with all the lights and officers on the night shifts coming in and out. He wasn't quite ready to be by himself in his room – it was hard to explain. Something wasn't right in his room and he didn't know what it was, didn't want to find out on his own. Austin had night shift, otherwise Bridge would have asked him – and the cadets on the floor were out of the question.

The girls were both asleep along with the rest of the A-Squad. That left one person – Sky – who had yet to reappear from the auditorium. Oh – he knew that Sky had to help Paris with the callback lists and whatnot, but it was late. Both of them were pretty decisive people and he was amazed that the process was taking so long. He shook his head. Before he got back to his room he had been curious about what the ultimate results of his audition would be, but now… with _something_ in his room… he couldn't think about that.

"Bridge?" He looked up as Sky walked into the lounge and headed for the replicator, probably to get something to drink. Relief washed over him. All annoyance about trivial things vanished. "What are you still doing up? Don't we have training at seven tomorrow?"

"Yes," he replied, watching as Sky pushed some buttons on the food replicator and a bottle of water appeared. Bottled water was one of the few things that the replicator would produce without a fight. He picked up the bottle and turned to Bridge.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I answered one of them."

Sky rolled his eyes. Bridge could see the dark smudges under his eyes, clear marks of how exhausted he was – and now neither of them was going to get any sleep tonight or at least not enough sleep to run one of the obstacle courses in the morning. He felt guilty about it, but couldn't quite let the guilt about this overtake the uneasiness he felt.

"What's wrong?"

Bridge almost started at the question. While it wasn't unusual for Sky to make mental leaps from him doing something odd to something being wrong, he normally didn't sound this patient about it. He was – always had been – skeptical of Bridge's powers and his hypersensitivity to emotions. Most of the time, Sky figured he was picking up on someone else being paranoid or uneasy, so that the feeling was not genuinely his and there was nothing to be worried about.

How could he explain that he was sure this time – it was his feeling and he wasn't just picking up on someone else's projected emotions? He was so careful lately to block out all the projections and residual feelings that he could. It wasn't that hard to differentiate between when he had a bad feeling and when it was someone else's.

But he couldn't explain that to Sky. The Blue Ranger would have his own opinions on what was going on – Bridge just hoped that it was enough.

"There is something in our room," he said slowly.

"Something?" Sky sounded unbelieving. "Like what?"

"It's like a presence." Bridge paused and shook his head. "It's not good."

He could see that Sky was trying to refrain from rolling his eyes and lashing out. It was easy to see that Sky was forcibly reigning his emotions in so that he didn't say something he was bound to regret.

"All right," his roommate said slowly after the internal battle. "Let's go."

Sky led the way down the darkened hall. The lights on the cadets' floors were dimmed at lights-out – a clear sign that someone needed to get to his or her room quickly lest some authority figure catch random acts of deviance. He was glad that lights-out didn't apply to them anymore – just one of the perks of being an officer.

The door to their room opened with a 'swish.' The lights were still on – as Bridge had left them before deciding he didn't want to be alone in the room. Nothing appeared out of place, but it looked much more sterile and surreal at the late hour. Sky's side of the room looked as it had hours earlier before he had to take off for the auditions – his laundry basket in one corner still had his clean clothes in it and his uniform was over the back of his desk chair. Bridge's latest computer project cluttered his desk and spilled to the floor beside it.

"There's nothing here, Bridge."

That much was true. The uneasiness and presence he had felt so acutely earlier was no longer there. He shivered to himself – it didn't seem like it was gone forever, just temporarily. "The presence isn't here anymore," he whispered, knowing that Sky was going to be beyond annoyed and really was going to chalk it up to his imagination.

"Look," Sky said in a surprisingly sympathetic tone. "We're all tired and no one is thinking straight. We'll worry about it in the morning."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, wanting to cry.

Sky turned to him. "God – Bridge," he started. "You think after almost four years of knowing you I'm not used to this?" He shook his head. "I'm not saying I don't believe you, but whatever was here has moved on and there's no use in worrying about it now."

Bridge nodded slowly, moving towards his dresser to get his pajamas. He could feel Sky's gaze burning into his back. He still wasn't convinced that Sky wasn't mad about all the hype he had caused – although his admission that he might be right was nice.

"Did the auditions shake you up that much?"

The Green Ranger whirled around from his dresser. Sky had a lopsided grin on his face and his eyes shone with amusement through the exhaustion. "Huh?" All he could do was blink at Sky, because this was such an unexpected turn of events.

"Don't worry – you got a good part."

"I get to be Mary Sunshine?"

It was Sky's turn to blink. "After your amazing audition, you think anyone in their right mind would cast you as Mary Sunshine?" Sky shook his head. "Good joke."

They went about the routine of getting ready for bed in silence. Bridge almost swore that when Sky was brushing his teeth, he was humming one of the show songs through the mouthful of toothpaste. He got into bed, burrowing under the covers and pulling Z's baby blanket to his chest – she still had his dinosaur. Peanuts was still sitting on Sky's bed and Bridge knew that his old teddy bear and train blanket were in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

"Do you want the lights on or off?" Sky asked as he came out of the bathroom.

"You can't sleep with them on," Bridge pointed out.

Sky shrugged. "I can suffer for one night."

"Turn them off."

He flipped the switch for the lights and the room a plunged into darkness. Sky turned the lamp on his nightstand on – it was a compromise. Bridge was almost glad that he didn't buy the line about turning the lights off. He could hear Sky get into bed and shift around.

"Night, Sky," he said, glancing over at his best friend.

"Night," he replied. Sky was using Peanuts partially as a pillow, his left arm curled around the stuffed animal.

In a matter of minutes, Sky's rhythmic breathing let Bridge know he was asleep. He let out a long breath and tried to get comfortable, hoping that whatever presence he had felt had moved on for good.

* * *

He felt really warm and comfortable – the kind of feeling that comes from being exhausted and finally going to sleep. The only thing that could have made the feeling better was if he knew it had come from a passionate evening with Syd and that she was curled up against him. However, that wasn't the case and he was just really comfortable.

Not wanting to open his eyes, he should have heard familiar sounds – Bridge breathing evenly, the creaking of the walls, the lights and beeps from various monitors out in the hall, even running water. He _should_ have heard all that. But that wasn't what he was hearing.

It sounded like someone was gasping for breath, crying softly in a battle. The same person was whispering _no_. Those sounds weren't right – not right at all.

Sky tore his eyes open. The room was still dark, which explained the deep-boned tiredness he felt. He couldn't have been asleep for more than a few hours. It was still pitch black outside – not even the gray, dim light of early morning. The digital clock on his nightstand glared out 4:23 in bright red numbers under the pale yellow pool of light from his lamp. What in the world was going on? The light hadn't woken him up – what had?

The gasping and crying continued.

He bolted upright in bed, thinking for a minute that Bridge was having one of his old nightmares and all he had to do was wake him up. However, a casual observation showed that that wasn't the case. Bridge was wide-awake, his blue eyes open and fearful – no, not fearful, panicked. He was struggling against some unknown force, as if it were on top of him and trying to strangle him to death.

Sky leapt from his bed, flinging his blankets and Peanuts every which way. Bridge turned to him, that wild, frightened look on his face. He crossed the room in one step and did the only thing he could think of – he threw force field over Bridge, so that it was just grazing his top and it would force whatever was attacking Bridge back.

The blue sheen of the force field appeared and Bridge rolled off his bed and onto the floor, clutching his throat and coughing.

"What's going on?" he asked, reaching out to Bridge.

"No," his roommate said between gasps. "It's still here. Get—"

But the sentence was never to be finished. Bridge clutched his head, his fingers holding his hair and pulling. "No!" he howled, his face contorted with pain. Sky tried to reach out to him, as if touching him would stop all of this. He had never seen Bridge in such agony and it was nauseating – he wanted to stop it.

At the same time he reached out, something slapped his hand away. Sky felt himself thrown back. He narrowly missed cracking his head open on the corner of his bed. What was going on and what was attacking them? This was an emergency… he had to get to his morpher and hit the emergency page. It would bring the other rangers here. He wasn't sure how they could help, but there was safety in numbers.

He tried to haul himself to his feet, but was slapped down again. This time his head did connect with the edge of his bed. Tears blurred his vision as his head throbbed, waves of pain washing over him.

Bridge was on the losing side of the battle – Sky knew it. The Green Ranger couldn't hold up against what seemed so intent on attacking him. He vaguely remembered something about hypersensitive people being open to demon attacks and possession – Bridge qualified as hypersensitive, but he knew that he was being attacked and knew enough to come up with some kind of defense. Where had he heard that before?

The truth was – he didn't know what was attacking Bridge.

If the thing attacking Bridge was doing it because of his powers, then it was going to have to get through his powers first.

Sky tried to concentrate and draw his energy to himself. A tight force field would have to be created around Bridge's body. He had only succeeded in erecting one around himself before. The sheer energy that the task required was daunting. This required minute precision so that he didn't hurt Bridge – an improperly placed force field could result in broken bones and other internal injuries. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Bridge.

Bridge was crying and gasping now – time was running out.

He held out a hand, uncurling his fingers from a fist to activate his power. Blue energy crackled around him. Now or never… The presence went to slap his hand away again, but it was too late, he threw the force field around Bridge.

Vaguely, he registered that he had accomplished the task. Bridge was surrounded by a blue glow and he didn't appear to be in pain. He looked shocked and slightly puzzled as to why the attack suddenly stopped. The moment seemed to last forever as things happened in slow motion. In reality, only a few seconds passed.

What happened next was a blur. The thing connected to his stomach full force and the wind was knocked out of him. He had to keep concentrating to keep the force field around Bridge intact – but he could create and wield two separate force fields at a time. Holding his right hand out to steady the force field around Bridge, he used his left hand as a defensive, throwing smaller force fields to block the assault focused on him.

The presence knocked him to the floor. He missed his bed by millimeters, landing with a dull thud between the foot of his bed and his desk chair. His body was being crushed down, like someone was squeezing him. His head felt light – his one task was to keep the force field around Bridge going. He clung to that single thought and fed energy to that shield.

Suddenly, the weight lifted and he could have sworn that the presence dissipated for now. It was still around, but frustrated – had given up. His energy was quickly draining as he fed the force field. He could hear Bridge screaming something and pounding against the force field – and that was the last sound he heard before everything went black.

_ To Be Continued..._


	6. Good Intentions II

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Six: Good Intentions II**

Austin Grayson considered himself a reasonable person – he had a psycho woman for a twin sister and a little sister who was dating the antithesis of everything she stood for. Growing up, he had to prevent Paris from making something implode, while convincing Syd that they shouldn't be bought off by their rich adopted parents. Now that they had found their real parents, he had an uncle who was a demon anthropologist. All that considered – he put up with a lot and that didn't even cover work.

But he drew the line at being awaken from a sound sleep after having been on night shift. Two hours in bed with a training session at the crack of dawn – needless to say it made him a little irritable. To make matters worse, the noise was coming from Sky and Bridge's room. Sky had the handbook memorized and knew better than to be making this much racket at four-thirty in the morning. It wasn't even a naïve cadet he was going to yell at – it was two experienced Power Rangers.

Growling, he threw the covers off himself and padded to the bathroom door. He, Sky and Bridge were suitemates and it was faster to go through the bathroom than outside to the hall to their room door. The bathroom lights came on automatically when he entered. He pushed the manual override button and the door to Sky and Bridge's room slid open.

He opened his mouth to yell, but stopped short. The scenarios that had been going through his head fled as he viewed the scene in front of him. Bridge was on the floor beside his bed, a fading blue force field surrounding him. He was desperately clawing at the last remnants of the shield, trying to get out. He was trying to say something, but it was unintelligible from his gasping for breath and crying.

Sky was sprawled on the floor at the foot of his bed – unconscious. As the force field around Bridge faded, one began to appear around Sky. Austin knew that was a bad thing, but he was blanking on all the proper first aide and CPR procedures in a situation like this. He could try to phase through Sky's force field, but he had never tried before and wasn't even sure if he could. This was bad…

What to do?

He glanced to Bridge. _Oh shit!_ Then all hell broke loose.

Bridge began to hyperventilate and he seemed unable to move closer to Sky, although that appeared to be his intention. From the rising and falling of Sky's chest, Austin was fairly sure that he would be all right for a few minutes, unless he stopped breathing. He could help Bridge, who was conscious and petrified.

"Bridge," Austin said, stepping into the room and going to the Green Ranger. "Take a deep breath – come on. I need to know what happened." Now that he had a purpose and a plan, he could think and take action. He picked up Bridge's morpher from his nightstand and pushed the emergency page on it. All the other rangers would be here in a matter of moments.

"Come on, Bridge," Austin tried to say soothingly. "Breath."

Slowly, Bridge focused on him, obediently taking deep breaths and letting them out. Austin picked up the faded yellow baby blanket from his bed – Z's baby blanket – and handed it to him. Bridge grabbed the blanket, clutching it in a death grip.

The doors swished open, revealing Paris. Austin felt relief seep through him – she was the official A-Squad medic, their advanced first aider. Sky was the B-Squad's and was out of commission right now. She took one look at Bridge, before focusing on Sky. Crossing the room in a few fluid strides, she knelt next to him, tucking her unbound hair behind her ear.

"He's breathing," she said. "And he doesn't appear to have a head, neck or back injury, but how did he get this force field around himself? How is he keeping it up?" She pulled her own morpher from the waistband of her pajama bottoms, flipped it open and hit the button that would bring an emergency medical team to them. SPD had its own hospital facilities and Newtech General was thirty seconds away for things that were more serious.

"Oh my God!"

Syd and Z appeared in the door. Paris swung around to face them. "Help Bridge," she ordered both of them. Syd took a step towards Sky. "Syd!" Paris warned. Ethan and Trent came in on the heels of the girls. She gave Trent a meaningful look. He came over to Bridge.

"Bridge," Trent said softly. "We need to know what happened."

Z had one arm around his shoulders, gently stroking his hair. Bridge took a long shuddering breath. The Green Rangers shared a long glance. Trent nodded at him, giving him silent encouragement.

"Something was in here," Bridge started shakily. "It—it was attacking me and Sky put a force field around me. It started attacking him… I—I don't know…"

"We shouldn't move him," Paris said softly to Ethan. "We don't know what kind of internal injuries he might have."

The medics from the infirmary arrived with a stretcher and their full kits. They worked efficiently, getting Sky onto a stretcher and wheeling him out to the hall. One of the medics hung behind and was conversing with Paris in low tones. "We don't know if he's got any sort of head, neck or back injury," she said last. She glanced to the others as the medic nodded and left the room.

"Z," she said, addressing the Yellow Ranger. "Take Bridge down to the infirmary – in the waiting area." Z nodded, looking worried. She helped Bridge to his feet and the pair of them started down the hall. "Trent and Ethan, take Syd to the infirmary – go to the public wing." The pair nodded and went to Syd. She had gone silent upon seeing Sky and Austin had the distinct feeling she was going to be given a sedative.

He was left facing Paris – his twin, his mirror. He could read so much from her expression. The situation was bad – and unknown. Paris' eyes held a distinct note of worry and she didn't worry about anything. "I'll call Mom and Dad," he said softly. "They'll be able to be with Syd at any rate."

She nodded. "I need to call Uncle Ryan."

"Why?"

"I think I know what happened…"

* * *

Z hated feeling like there was nothing she could do. It had been almost an hour since they brought Sky to the infirmary and the sun was just now peeking over the horizon. No one had told her anything since one of the medics took Bridge to one of the private cubicles. So, she had been left sitting in the waiting room, watching people come in and out, all with tasks and purposes, while she was left waiting, doing nothing. This was the worst feeling in the world. She wanted to at least know how Bridge was doing.

Doctor Oliver had come in earlier and he hadn't left. Z had the distinct impression he gave the twins the phone call duty, because Paris and Austin had been in and out, always on a cell phone. Of course, all of them were overage and Bridge and Syd had both been fully conscious and aware when the medics saw to them. The only parents that needed to be called was Sky's parents, especially if the force field Sky had put around himself showed no signs of fading of its own accord.

"Z?"

She looked up from where she had been staring off into space at a spot on the floor. Her heart leaped – not quite believing who she saw. "Daddy?" she whispered.

Her father nodded, a smile on his face. He was wearing red scrubs, indicating he had to go to work once he left Newtech. This wasn't an emergency, so she didn't even question where her mother was. At the elementary school, her mother was head teacher for kindergarten and probably had a meeting before school.

She leapt from her chair and crossed the room in a few steps, throwing her arms tightly around her father's neck. Cole hugged her back just as tightly. All the frustration of the past hour came pouring out and she wanted to cry. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a shaky voice that threatened to melt down at any moment.

"I got a phone call from Miss Grayson," he replied. There was no need for elaboration. Obviously, Paris and Austin's phone call duty had extended from Sky's family. Cole pressed a kiss to her cheek, still smiling. "Are you all right?"

She shuddered. "No one will tell me anything," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "Sky's been in there an hour and so have Bridge and Syd and…" she trailed off, not trusting her voice anymore. She was just glad that her father was here.

"Well, let's find something out," Cole replied. He gently kissed her forehead, before taking her hand. They went through the doors from the waiting area that led into a mini-nurses' station where all the doctors and nurses in the infirmary held court. Her father conversed in low tones with the nurse at the station. She obviously didn't realize that the scrubs meant he was a vet, not a doctor, but it was working to their advantage.

"Mr. Corbett and Miss Grayson are sleeping in the public wing," the nurse said. "Both were given sedatives and should be up in a few hours." She paused, looking wary. "However, I can't disclose anything on Mr. Collins' condition until his family gets here."

"May we go see Mr. Corbett?"

"Of course," the nurse said, regaining her smile.

"Come on," Cole said, tugging her hand. The public wing of the infirmary was close to the front, the first set of double doors. It was so that minor injury victims had a place to stay that was close, but didn't take up rooms for more serious things. The door was propped open. Screens had been placed around two of the beds.

Bridge was in the first bed, sleeping fitfully. He was still holding her baby blanket and looked like he wanted to wake up but couldn't. Z moved forward, gently placing a hand on his forehead. The effect was immediate. He stopped tossing and turning, settling down into a much more peaceful sleep. She adjusted his covers, tucking him in.

"He wasn't hurt?" her father asked.

"No – I think Sky managed to protect him." She let out a long breath. "We won't really know what happened until he wakes up. He was shaken up pretty badly."

Cole put a hand on her shoulder. She took comfort in his presence, fully appreciating the fact that Turtle Cove was only a twenty minute drive. If her parents needed to, then they could be here relatively quickly.

Z started as someone began to yell in the hall. Bridge and Syd weren't going to wake up if they were under sedatives. She quickly took her father's hand again and moved towards the hall. She slowly moved into the hall. The scene was close to mass chaos. Eric Myers – Sky's adopted father – was livid and Z had a good idea why, between what she knew of him and Sky and what he was yelling. His real parents were nowhere to be seen, but Silver Hills was an hour away if the driver floored it the whole way.

"I live three minutes from here!" Eric was shouting. "Why was I not called an hour ago when you first brought him in?"

"Sir," the nurse replied, frightened. "It's our policy to call the next of kin—"

"Which I am! Can you not read his records?"

"It's just that his biological—"

"His real mother is due to have a baby tomorrow! You called them in the middle of the night and now she's coming here when she shouldn't be traveling! I would have liked to be called first, because we could have been spared all this trouble!" Eric raked a hand through his hair. "You people are incompetent! He's my son!"

"Sir, he—"

"Do not give me a bullshit line about biology," Eric snapped. "I am his father. You can ask his real parents, him, his girlfriend. Now where the hell is the doctor?"

"I'll go get Dr. Henson," the nurse said, hurrying away down the hall.

Eric leaned against the counter, letting out a long breath. Z felt her heart go out to him. She didn't know Sky's adopted father as well as Bridge did, but he had always been nice to her and it was clear that Sky loved him and respected him deeply.

"I know you two are standing there staring at me."

Z nearly jumped while her father just shook his head and smiled. "You always did know how to cause a scene," Cole replied.

Eric turned and faced them, a grim smile on his face. "I got a phone call ten minutes ago," he said in a deadly whisper. "From Wes. No one in this damn infirmary bothered to call me." He shook his head, looking defeated.

"I'm sorry," Z said, feeling a lump lodge in her throat again. "I should have thought—"

"It's not your responsibility," Eric replied, giving her a genuine smile. "They ignored their own procedure because I should have been called first."

"Are you going to talk to Tommy about it?"

Z had forgotten that her father and Eric, among others, knew their commander personally and had no problem going straight to him with their concerns. "At the least – he might lose something vital."

"Eric!" The trio turned to see Taylor Earhardt, Eric's longtime girlfriend and more recent fiancée, barrel through the door and skid to a halt near Eric. She took a deep breath. "I just got off the phone with Wes. He's about ten minutes out – he convinced Jen to stay at home because her doctor told her not to travel. Have we heard anything?"

"No, we haven't, because this infirmary was too busy botching procedures."

"What?" Taylor nearly shrieked.

Z almost felt sorry for the head doctor of this place once Eric _and_ Taylor came down on his head. And once Wes Collins got here – he was going to be livid and he presented a much more dire threat because he had the means to do almost anything he wanted. Cole squeezed her hand as Eric filled Taylor in on the situation.

The doctor came out of one of the private rooms. He strode over to Eric and Taylor. "I'm Doctor Henson," he said in a professional tone of voice.

"Eric Myers," Eric replied shortly. "This is my fiancée, Taylor Earhardt."

"I understand that you are Sky's adopted father and next of kin."

"Yes," the former Quantum Ranger said. "Look, can we just cut all the bull? What is wrong with Sky and when can we see him?"

"Well – his condition is stable. He doesn't appear to have sustained any serious injuries and he is breathing on his own. However, he has erected one of his force fields around his body, preventing us from monitoring him or providing further investigation into possible injuries." The doctor paused. "We believe that he is feeding his energy into the force field and that is what is preventing him from consciousness."

"That's it? What do you plan to do about it?"

"We're not sure yet," the doctor faltered. "We need more time to analyze the situation."

Eric rolled his eyes. "What room is he in?"

The doctor indicated the room he had just left. Eric and Taylor immediately went into the room, disappearing from sight. She accepted the hug that Cole pulled her into. She didn't want to see Sky – not yet. The situation was scary, when she was the only one of the four of them not under a sedative or unconscious. "Do you want me to stay here today?" her father asked.

"Don't you have to work?"

He shrugged. "There are two of us in at all times, plus an intern. They can handle it. You are more important than work."

"Then, yes – I want you to stay here."

* * *

Syd gasped and sat bolt right up in bed. Why wasn't she in her bed? The sun was shining brightly, streaming through large windows covered with blinds. Why was she in a bed in the infirmary? The last thing she remembered was going to bed last night after auditions, hoping that it went well and that she would get a good part. How had she gotten here?

"Syd?"

She turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Her mother was sitting in a chair beside her bed. Abruptly, the events of last night began tumbling back to her. The emergency page on their morphers going off, hurrying to Sky and Bridge's room only to find Sky unconscious and Bridge hyperventilating… She let out a strangled sob.

"Where's Sky?" she asked. "How is he?"

Dana stood up, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "He's stable for now – I looked over his chart myself."

"Is he still unconscious?"

Her mother nodded. She pressed a hand to her mouth. The moment she laid eyes on Sky last night, she felt numb with horror. He had looked so vulnerable – he wasn't supposed to be hurt by something that Bridge couldn't even describe. Paris had told her to help Bridge – at first she had been shocked and angry, but soon realized she couldn't help Sky. Paris was the A-Squad medic and didn't need people getting in her way.

She asked the next question that came to mind. "Where is everyone?"

"Z and her father went to go get food for everyone," Dana replied. "Bridge is awake and talking to Uncle Ryan and Paris."

Syd nodded, still feeling numb. Tears stung her eyes. This was a nightmare. If any of them was going to be hurt, it was supposed to be in the line of duty or in a simulator accident. They weren't supposed to be hurt in their own rooms in the middle of the night. It didn't surprise her that someone had called her parents. She had gone still last night – the last thing she remembered was Ethan and Trent bringing her here and a nurse giving her a sedative.

A tear slipped down her cheek. Dana didn't say anything, just pulled her into her arms, rocking her back and forth. Syd began to sob – half in worry and fear over Sky and half in gratitude that her mother was here. Her mother was a doctor and she trusted what she said about Sky. It also didn't surprise her that she had looked at Sky's case.

Pulling back, she furiously wiped at her eyes. "Can I see Sky?"

Dana nodded and helped her out of bed. She was still wearing her pajamas – someone had brought her slippers from her room. Sky was in one of the private rooms down the hall. Her mother nodded at her. She pushed the door open and stifled a gasp.

Sky was still – encased in a translucent blue sheen. "Oh Sky," she whispered, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm. The force field prevented her from touching his skin. "How are we supposed to help you if you're putting up walls again?"

Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder and Syd accepted a tight hug. Dana was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, meaning she hadn't gone to work. She desperately wanted to wake up and realize that this was all a bad dream. How could any of them help Sky if he was feeding his energy into the force field? The only way one of Sky's force fields could be broken was if he stopped feeding energy into it. She fully realized the implications of that in this case…

"Syd!"

She pulled away from her mother. Bridge and Z were standing in the door of the room, both looking worried, but relieved. "You're awake," Z said, giving her a quick hug. "We were worried because you stayed knocked out for so long."

"I'll be in the waiting room with your father," Dana said, taking her cue to exit.

Bridge walked across the room, looking down at his still best friend, his brother… "He's really done it to himself this time," the Green Ranger whispered. "I tried to help him, but he wouldn't let me." Unshed tears shone in Bridge's eyes.

"It's his way," Syd whispered. "He always was a loner – didn't want help."

"We'll find a way to help him," Z said fiercely.

"But he's only been able to hold a force field for eight hours before," Bridge said, looking close to breaking down. "We've already lost three hours. We're running out of time."

"We will find a way to help him," Z repeated. Syd admired her resolve, but couldn't help but agree with Bridge. After eight hours, it was likely that Sky was going to run out of energy to keep the force field – and himself – alive.

_No! There has to be a way! We're all here and we have powers too…_

Syd bit her lip. "What do we know about his force fields?"

Bridge faced her, looking confused. "As long as he keeps feeding them energy, nothing can break them or get through them."

Z met Syd's gaze – she could tell her roommate had just come to the conclusion she had.

"I might know a way to get through the force field…"

_ To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Doo dee doo... 


	7. Good Intentions III

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Seven: Good Intentions III**

Paris' eyes lit up as Syd explained what she and Z suspected. Bridge hadn't expected her to get this excited about it, but she was. The trio had found her and Austin in the cafeteria, working on something that they had abandoned with their arrival. Technically, Paris was the superior to everyone on the B-Squad and, if she gave Austin an order, he had to follow it.

"It makes perfect sense," she said. "We've always been taught to individually hone our powers and use them as a team, but we've never pitted our powers against one another." She paused and looked thoughtful. "It's such a logical step, but one never taken." There were unspoken words there – their initial training about their powers had been about weaponry, but since they were on the same team, there was no reason to test their powers against one another – especially with the more visible powers that the twins, Sky and Syd had.

"Can we try it?" Z asked.

Paris nodded. "But it's going to take all of us." She shook her head, looking annoyed that she hadn't thought of it. "There's nothing that Austin and I _haven't_ been able to phase through. I just hope this will work."

"It'll take both of us," Austin added. "What you want us to do takes mass amounts of energy and sheer strength." The twins were working in tandem – earlier they had been finishing each other's sentences. It was rare to seem them do that, but natural. That interaction was something the pair didn't get often.

"If we succeed, we'll need the rest of you." Paris glanced at her little sister. "He's already been holding that force field for over three hours – he's going to be weak. All he needs to drop it is a little incentive. Do you still have those diamond earrings?"

"The ones _they_ gave me before I enrolled here?" Paris nodded. "Yeah – they're in my jewelry box." Syd smiled as she realized what Paris was implying. "The setting on them is pretty rotten – I should be able to pry the diamonds out."

"Bridge," she said and he snapped to attention at the mention of his name. "Breaking the force field might cause mental trauma – you're going to have to bring him back to consciousness. Can you do that?"

Bridge took a deep breath. There were times when Sky withdrew into himself when he could barely normally pick up on emotions. If Sky drew much deeper into himself, it would take such sheer amounts of energy to reach him that it was frightening. "I can do it."

"What can I do?" Z asked.

"Crowd control," Paris replied.

Z seemed to understand that answer and was satisfied with it. Normally, Bridge would have been enthusiastic about a new plan of action, especially if it helped someone. Now, he couldn't help but feel that they were grasping at straws. Ultimately, it would be up to the twins to start the process and neither of them knew if they could do it.

"Let's do it," Paris was saying. "We all meet in the infirmary in five minutes."

Various heads bobbed in affirmation before people began to disperse. Bridge stayed where he was at the table, the enormity of the task Paris had set before him making him feel so small and powerless. One of the things he didn't do was flaunt his power – he had been more than happy to give up the gloves and blend with normal society. But this was for Sky – his best friend, his brother… he had to do what he could.

"We should go talk to his father," Z said. "We probably need to get permission."

They were silent as they walked to the infirmary. Life went on as usual around them – only a few cadets had curious looks. The rumor was that Doctor Oliver had already reamed out the infirmary for not calling Sky's dad and botching procedure. Doctor O didn't tend to get livid, but when he did running for the hills was not unprecedented.

Eric Myers was still in Sky's room – Taylor was there as was Wes, Sky's biological father. The trio looked grim – the news that as long as the force field held, Sky would remain alive, but it didn't… no one wanted to think about it. The sad part was that, if it happened, it would happen later that day.

Z explained what they wanted to do and got almost immediate approval. The hope in the trio's eyes was overwhelming. Bridge had always seen the six of them as connected and it appeared that part of that theory was going to be tested.

Paris and Austin reappeared with Syd on their heels. The twins hadn't changed from their pajamas and neither had Syd. The twins were a lot stronger than they appeared – muscles rippled their bare arms. Syd was pulling diamonds from a pair of earrings, cupping the small stones loosely in her hand. Z nodded to them, indicating the approval.

"Ready?" Paris asked as she pulled her hair into a quick ponytail.

Austin nodded and the pair of them took a place on either side of the bed. Sky was still, the force field still going strong. The twins' eyes met, identical shades of blue-gray understanding and passing along some silent communication. They held their hands over Sky's chest, each taking a deep breath.

Without warning, they set their hands on the force field and fell through the blue force field, their hands touching Sky. Bridge held his breath – no one in the room was moving and no one dared to speak, to utter any positive sentiments. It could jinx it. This seemed like a last hope for an otherwise hopeless situation.

The twins exchanged another glance – something passed between them. The joints in their arms snapped rigid and blue sparks flew. Bridge felt his mouth open – they had just made themselves solid, creating a hole in the force field where they had phased through. He hadn't known they could do that – no one had known they could do that. Muscles straining, they moved their hands up, pulling and creating more space in the force field.

Sky remained still.

"Almost there," Austin muttered.

One final push and the twins seemed to have reached their goal.

"Now Syd!" Paris called.

Syd held the diamonds in both her hands, wrapping tight fists around them. With a brief look of concentration, her hands turned into diamond, translucent and shining under the fluorescent lights. She stepped next to Austin – and it was clear what the twins had done. They had created enough space for Syd to get her fists through and underneath the force field. The force field would be gradually weakening and the extra incentive…

Moving quickly, Syd placed both her fists under the force field and, with all her strength, pounded on the force field from the inside out. The first blow caused the whole force field to ripple – the second made it visibly shake, like it wanted to dissipate.

"Come on," Syd said softly.

She brought her fist up again and things seemed to happen all at once. The force field dissolved in an impressive display of blue light and sparks. The twins and Syd were thrown backwards with the force.

And Z's job description of 'crowd control' came to life. As soon as the dissolution of the force field started, she created two replicates, sending each one around the room to catch the twins and Syd. Instead of hitting something or falling on the floor, Z caught each of them, preventing any more injuries.

"Bridge!" Austin yelled from where the real Z was holding him upright.

He hurried to Sky – now free of the force field. Without thinking, he placed his hands on Sky's temples and dove into his mind. The surface was mostly white mist, indicating that Sky had withdrawn deeply into himself. Bridge ran forward, free of a body in this state.

_Sky! SKY!_

Plunging deep into the mist, he saw a figure huddled in the middle of a barren wasteland. He ran forward, realizing that it was Sky. He was sitting with his arms wrapped around his legs, looking scared and unable to move.

_Sky?_ He held out a hand. _It's all right._

There was no recognition in those blue-gray eyes. They seemed empty and haunted by horrors unknown. Bridge touched his arm.

_Sky… you can't stay here. You'll die._

Sky looked up, the blankness on his face terrifying. _It's safe here. I can see all of you and I know that you're safe._

_But you can't touch us – you can't interact._

_I don't know you._

_ It's Bridge – you have to come with me. I'm your brother!_

_ Brother?_

A light slowly came into his eyes and a frown came over his face, like he was trying to remember. He dropped his arms from around his legs, his posture becoming more fluid and relaxed, like it should have been when Bridge found him.

_You're my brother?_

Bridge nodded. _I'm your brother._

This time, when he held out a hand, Sky took it. He hauled Sky to his feet, but he stumbled, obviously hadn't regained use of his body. Bridge pulled one of Sky's arms over his shoulder, wrapping his free arm around his waist. If Sky couldn't walk out of the misty place, then Bridge was going to carry him.

The walk out seemed to take forever, but he kept going. Abruptly, he was thrown back into consciousness – into the real world. He was holding Sky close to his chest, Sky's head against his shoulder and his hands clutching his shirt. Sky slowly opened his eyes and focused on Bridge's face. "Bridge?" he whispered.

"Yeah," he replied, feeling relief so acutely he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Sky's eyelids drooped shut.

Panic lurched in Bridge's stomach. "No!" he cried. "You can't leave!"

"Leave?" Sky said softly, wrenching his eyes open. "Why would I go anywhere? I'm just tired and I want to sleep."

"Okay." The panic subsided. "You can sleep."

The Blue Ranger's eyes were closed and he was breathing evenly as Bridge eased him away from his chest, lowering him back onto the bed. He stood up, but almost immediately felt his knees give out. Z caught him before he fell and he leaned against her, trying to regain his balance. He suddenly felt exhausted.

"I think you need to sleep now, too," she whispered.

He was too tired to argue. Vaguely, he registered Eric commenting on how they actually succeeded. Paris and Austin both looked sore, like neither wanted to move their arms. Syd was gently stroking Sky's hair, the look of love on her face unmistakable. Bridge allowed himself to be led away to the girls' room and surrendered to sleep.

* * *

Something beeping and there was an uncomfortable pinching sensation in his arm. Sky cracked his eyes open and blinked, trying to focus on his surroundings. Harsh fluorescent light made the room seem bare and uninviting. He blinked again and took in the regular menagerie at the foot of his bed – Peanuts, Olive and his old teddy bear. Someone had also put his train blanket over his middle and covered it with Z's baby blanket. He turned on his side and saw Taylor sitting in the chair next to his bed – she had her laptop out and her fingers were flying over the keyboard, probably something for work.

What had happened?

He glanced down at his left arm and saw the IV – and he was hooked up to a heart monitor which was beeping at regular intervals. He raised his right hand to his forehead – the last thing he remembered was putting a force field around Bridge. How had he ended up in the infirmary and what was Taylor doing here?

Taylor glanced up from her laptop and smiled. "Good – you're awake."

"What happened?" he croaked.

"Long story." Taylor closed the laptop and set it on the nightstand next to his bed. "You managed to put a force field around yourself – the others got you out of it." She scooted her chair closer to the bed and took his hand.

"Who put all this junk here?" he asked, motioning towards the stuffed animals and blankets. He allowed Taylor to help him into a sitting position.

"Syd," she replied. "That was before Austin made her go to bed." Taylor gave him a wry smile. "I also got to hear the story about how Peanuts survived Syd and Paris' adoption."

"So these guys are cheerleaders?"

"Sort of." Taylor gently placed a hand on the side of his face. "You scared us."

"Where's Dad?"

"In the cafeteria with Wes."

"Who called Wes? I thought Jen was supposed to have the baby tomorrow."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "That's another long story involving extremely messed up procedures – more than one person was livid about it."

Sky leaned back against the headboard of the bed. He didn't remember anything beyond putting that force field around Bridge. That had been a fleeting success – he recalled knowing that the force field had worked, whatever had been attacking Bridge stopped and he hadn't hurt Bridge with that idea. The others had apparently been in and out from the transitional objects in his bed – he felt like he needed to remember something, but couldn't.

"Welcome to the land of the living."

He glanced up as his father walked into the room. Eric smiled at him and he returned the grin. Seeing as he lived so close to the academy, he didn't make it home as much as he would have liked to. Most people around him thought that his situation was odd – especially after he learned that Eric was his godfather. It didn't matter – as far as he was concerned, Eric was his real father and nothing could take that away.

"Wes will be back in a few minutes," his father continued. "He's getting a grand tour of what all that money he donated bought."

Sky didn't reply, just accepted the hug his father offered.

"And you'll be glad to know I chased away Paris," he added.

"What did she want?"

"Wanted to know if you would be up and about for auditions tonight." Eric shrugged. "The doctor told her no way, so she's roped Z into helping her."

Eric and Taylor were sitting next to each other now. They were his parents growing up – while Eric had officially been his father, Taylor had been the closest thing he had to a mother. She didn't like being a shoulder to cry on and didn't like the image of a maternal caregiver, but he had always known she cared about him. He vaguely recalled, when he had been six, that she had a soft spot for Bridge. There was a heart underneath it all.

Wes came into the room. "Message for you from Paris." He handed Sky an envelope. Sky wanted to groan – whatever Paris wanted now, it couldn't be good. He met his real father's gaze, holding it for just a moment longer than necessary. His real parents had understood that he viewed Eric as his father and they didn't want him to change all that – so far, they had been patient and understanding, trying to bring him slowly into their lives. Confusion surrounded the whole situation, because he still went to Eric for advice.

"How's Jen?" he asked, ripping open the envelope. He pulled out a piece of white paper that Austin and Paris had colored all over – it said 'Get Well Soon' in huge letters. The twins thought they were funny – someone had lied and told them that.

"She's fine – the important thing is how are you?"

"Better."

Sky wished he could sort things out, wished that the decisions surrounding his family were easy to make. He was just glad that Gemma would not have the same problems he did.

* * *

Bridge had been asleep a few hours, his head resting on her stomach. Z had dozed for a while, but found it much more relaxing to watch Bridge sleep. He looked more childlike in sleep – so peaceful yet so vulnerable. She gently ran her fingers through his messy hair. Paris had drafted her to help with callbacks that night – but those didn't start for some time.

Not too much had happened all day since they broke the force field around Sky. Aside from being drafted by Paris, Austin had shown up earlier with Bridge's morpher and cell phone. According to their Red Ranger, he had talked to Bridge's mother, reassuring her that everything was fine and Bridge was just sleeping. He gave Z the number that Bridge's parents might be calling from and instructed her to answer the phone if they called again. Anything else, the order was to let his voicemail get it.

She thought back to last week – had it only been a week since the rehearsal dinner? Bridge hadn't said anything about his adopted mother bothering him, but that didn't mean that she hadn't. Between auditions and the chaos last night and today, it seemed likely that Bridge wouldn't have mentioned any further incidents. What in the world that woman wanted to talk to Bridge for was beyond her. Most of them knew the bare bones story of Bridge's adopted life – not because he had told them something, but because he let things slip without thinking about it. She couldn't fathom how Bridge had come out relatively normal, with being psychotic from the treatment he had endured.

"Z?"

"Hmmm?" She gently kissed Bridge's forehead as he looked at her, trying to smooth down his hair – which was all over the place.

"I feel like a million bucks – green and wrinkled."

Z smiled. "Your mother called."

"Oh yeah?" Bridge shifted so that he was stretched out next to her instead of using her for a makeshift pillow. His hands touched bare skin from where her pajama top had ridden up her torso. She shivered at the light touch, how it teased her skin.

"She wanted to make sure you're all right."

"Who talked to her?"

"Austin."

"Oh – that's cool. He's all diplomatic and stuff."

Z shook her head, smiling. "You definitely feel better." Since they had broken the force field, most of the parents had dispersed. Her dad headed back to Turtle Cove after having lunch with her and a half-asleep Bridge. Syd's mother had left shortly after that too – double-checking Sky before she left. However, the last she heard, Syd's Uncle Ryan was still hanging around with Paris and Austin. Wes had gone back to Silver Hills – while Eric and Taylor were staying with Sky overnight.

Bridge reached across her and picked up his cell phone, scanning through the missed calls. A frown came over his face as he paused.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing…"

"You're a bad liar."

Bridge shrugged. "There's a reason no one takes me on undercover missions."

"Don't change the subject."

Letting out a long breath, he sat up. Z had never seen him look so lost – sure, he always seemed to be puzzled and rambling, but this took the cake. Maybe he was overloaded from too much happening in a short period of time, most of which was not positive. "It's my adopted mother," he started. "She's called a couple of times, but hasn't left a message." He ran a hand through his hair, succeeding in making it look wilder. "I don't know – I mean I'm afraid that my mom might get upset if I talk to her, not to mention my dad."

"Just talk to them about it – they'll understand."

"It's just – I don't want _her_ back in my life. Things have been going so right."

Z took his hand, threading her fingers through his. She understood his confusion, the feeling that all he had worked for was being threatened. In a way, she had it easier than the others. She had lived in a group home and then the streets, never had an adopted or even a foster family. The closest family she ever had on the streets was Mrs. Mancuso and, later, Jack. But she wouldn't have referred to either in familial terms.

"Bridge," she said seriously. "You have nothing to feel guilty about. If anything, it's your adopted family that should feel guilty for ignoring you all those years."

"I know," he replied with a sigh. "It's just hard."

"No one ever said it would be easy."

_ To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, I got to thinking about it and I realized that I haven't done reviewer responses or even reviewer shout-outs for this piece yet. In light of that, it is high time for me to do so. Reviewer responses for those wonderful people who reviewed chapter 6:

_alexis_ - I like a good cliffhanger as much as the next person. :) Your reviews are always so frantic and entertaining - I hope this chapter has answered a lot of your questions!

_Anastasia Athene_ - The plan just got revealed:) I'm glad you enjoyed the Bridge/Z moments in the last chapter. Those two have such depth to their relationship and I have yet to explore a lot of it. On the parental note, there's going to be a lot more focusing on these kids' relationships with their parents so stay tuned! Glad you're liking this!

_BloomingViolets_ - I'm glad that you like the characterization and relationships between all the characters in this chapter. (Ironically enough, I saw _Badge_ today and really wanted to go back and change the doctor to Doctor Felix.) At any rate, _Bond Enforcement_ is in the very early stages of reworking. I'm working on redoing the first chapter so that it is just Eric and Cam initially - and they go to the grocery store... :) But, I'm glad you're liking this piece!

_garnetred_ - I think you're the first person to put two and two together (in the reviews at any rate!) Way to be a sharp reader:) I'm glad you're liking it!

_Giannola_ - The baby's birth will come into this very soon and, of course, everyone will be around to see her birth. :) So all's well that ends well. Glad you're liking this! (And I just got to thinking - I'm pretty sure you've been reviewing my stuff since _Roaring on the Wind_. If so, then it's totally awesome that you're still around!)

_Jeremy_ - Thanks! I do try to update every two to four days - sometimes it happens and sometimes not. :)

_missy_ - Thanks:)

_redandblack 4eva_ - Never fear, Sky isn't going to die! lol Thanks for reviewing:)

_Samurai-Nashie_ - Interesting comparison! I honestly have to say that the inspiration for this sequence didn't come from that piece - the inspiration for the sequence in chapter 6 was _the Exorcism of Emily Rose_ (the initial scene in the dorm room where the demon presses her into the bed and she has to physically fight this invisible demon off.) My thought was 'what if something intervened' and the something here was Sky. The sequence in Sky's mind came from _the Black Jewels Trilogy._ (There are parts of those books where Jaenelle, the main character, describes a misty place in her mind where she goes to retreat from the world.) It made sense to me that a similar place would be where Bridge would find Sky. So after a really long-winded response, very interesting and flattering comparison:)

_Weesta_ - Evil:) I've been accused of it before. Ryan's appearance in all of this will come into play quite soon - I promise! And no one who read _Restless Warriors_ will forget what I did to Dustin. I promise I don't plan on killing anyone else off anytime in the near future. (Unless I think of a good reason for it and I don't have any reasons to here.) :) Ninja twin? lol - Lots of twins around here, but none of them are ninjas. I'm glad you're liking the piece!


	8. Good Intentions IV

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Eight: Good Intentions IV**

"We had _such_ a nice vacation from training yesterday."

"Give it up, Paris. We have to run this simulator course."

Ethan James gave his teammate a pointed glance. The simulator logged which teams used it and then was able to playback performances. In other words, it was more obvious that they skipped simulator trainings than it was if they skipped the obstacle courses or mud run. He didn't want to be here early in the morning doing this – none of them did. But that didn't stop them from doing it. Secretly, he wasn't going to crack down on people without Conner here – that wasn't in his job description. Besides, there were some good movies on TV later that they could watch…

The trio was dressed in workout clothes. Most of the simulator trainings were run in full uniform because it was meant to imitate a real life situation – and no one went on patrol in workout clothes. However, exceptions were made for programs that honed their powers. It was next to impossible to hone their powers in a normal environment. Therefore, simulator training was the next best thing.

He had designed this particular program for the A-Squad. It consisted of a series of large walls, placed in a staggered formation. Paris started the program by running through each of the walls – and she had to pay attention to where the wall was. Each wall was a different material, giving Trent an opportunity to blend in with each. He would get through each wall with his armored skin. If Conner had been here, he'd be running around the walls and Kira would be knocking them down with her sonic scream.

"We do have a production crew meeting tonight after the rough read through."

"I'm aware," Ethan replied shortly.

The room around them suddenly became the roof top with the walls. Trent had his arms crossed over his chest and was staring at Paris as she sighed dramatically. "Shouldn't you go first, Fernandez?" she asked him. "So you can hide in one of the walls and we can find you?"

"This isn't hide and seek," Ethan reminded her.

"Besides, you'd phase through me," Trent added.

"Oh – I'd phase through you all right." Paris winked.

_That was an innuendo_, Ethan thought. For some reason, it was much more interesting watching Trent and Paris play cat and mouse, rather than concentrating on improving anyone's powers. From his outsider's point of view, the attraction was mutual, yet neither of them seemed to be inclined to make a first move outside of goading each other during training. Perhaps they were just close friends and Ethan was imagining things – but, if there was one thing he had noticed about Paris, it was that she didn't throw innuendoes at just anyone.

Trent's arms fell to his side as he strode out of sight across the roof top – disappearing in the maze of walls. Paris watched for a minute before she took off running, neatly passing through each wall. Ethan shook his head. _You guys are so lucky this isn't timed._ He was on Paris' heels, matching her pace as he pounded his way through the walls.

He burst through one of the walls – and that is when things began to happen in slow-motion.

Paris was approaching the next wall she needed to phase through. At the last possible moment, Trent materialized from the wall, taking a step forward. If either of them had been paying attention, they would have noticed the faint outline on the wall. While Trent had chameleon powers, he wasn't invisible. As the texture and color of the wall faded, revealing Trent in his civilian form, Paris turned towards him, gaping.

The resounding 'thud' made Ethan wince. She hit the wall full-on, rather than phasing through it like she was supposed to. Flying backwards, she landed on her backside, blood gushing from her nose and her left wrist cradled to her chest. He froze for a second, meeting Trent's gaze, before the pair rushed towards her.

"Oh my God! I didn't mean to scare you!"

"Can you move your wrist?"

"Did you break anything?"

"Shut-up!" Paris yelled, her voice muffled from the hand she had clutched to her nose. Blood dripped down her wrist, making the situation look more horrific than it actually was. That along with the wrist she wasn't moving – Ethan wasn't reassured by her yelling.

"Come on," he said. "We need to get you to the infirmary." He paused. "Can you walk?"

"Of course I can walk! I'm just in pain – there's nothing wrong with my feet you ignorant, chauvinistic, sexist pig!"

Trent rolled his eyes at Ethan. In one smooth motion, he picked Paris up from where she had been sitting on the ground. One arm was under her knees and the other around her shoulders. Paris had lost her angry edge from a moment ago and looked disgruntled. Pain etched her face and she fell silent as Ethan stopped the simulator program and the three of them made their way to the infirmary.

* * *

Sky made his way under a series of low ropes, turning as he cleared them to pull Bridge the rest of the way through. This was part of the second obstacle course – one that could be run individually or as a team. He had been released from the infirmary that morning, right before breakfast, with the news that the B-Squad had a normal routine. Currently, he was on anti-inflammatory drugs from his right elbow, that he had wrenched pretty hard holding the force field around Bridge. It wasn't bothering him too much, but no one wanted to take a chance. 

He and Bridge stood up, watching as Austin pulled Z out of the ropes. Syd was further behind, but someone would be waiting to drag her out of the ropes.

The B-Squad Red Ranger narrowed his eyes, looking almost tense.

"What's wrong?" Bridge asked him.

"I think Paris has done something stupid," he muttered, before turning to Sky. "I'm going to run to the infirmary – be back in twenty minutes. Keep an eye on this."

With that, he took off, weaving through the sea of cadets and officers out on the training fields. Sky looked after him, watching the red shirt disappear into all the neutral colors of people that weren't rangers. He turned back just in time to pull Syd from underneath the ropes.

"Where's Austin?" she asked.

"He went to go check on Paris."

Syd didn't look at all surprised by that information. "Figures. He lost it this one time when we were kids – Paris was at this boot camp thing for kids with behavior problems and got hurt. No one believed him when he said she was in pain."

As hard as it was to imagine Austin losing it over anything, Sky also knew that he and Paris were extremely close. The close bond that the three Grayson siblings shared shone through more often than not. It almost made him wish that he had siblings he grew up with – not the little sister that was twenty-one and a half years younger than him.

His morpher beeped. Sky pulled it from the waistband of his workout pants. "Collins," he said into it.

"Sky," came Doctor Oliver's voice. "Your father is here – Jen just went into labor."

"I'll be right there." He closed his morpher and clipped it back to his pants. The others were looking a little lost. "Finish the course – then its lunchtime." He paused. "And let Austin know that I'm gone for the rest of today."

As he took off towards the building, he vaguely heard someone comment, "So if Paris is hurt and Sky is in Silver Hills, who's going to be in charge of the read-through tonight?"

* * *

Ethan leaned against a wall in the infirmary. The medics had patched Paris up in a matter of minutes, quickly ascertaining that she hadn't broken her nose and had only sprained her wrist. However, she had a black eye from where she hit the wall at an angle, a bandage over the bridge of her nose and her wrist in a temporary brace. The medic had also said she was going to be in pain – the doctor would be in soon to prescribe some painkillers. 

Well – the A-Squad had just managed to put themselves out of commission for another day. Paris was supposed to be on patrol later that afternoon with Z and Ethan was going to fill in for her. He had been on command center duty and Trent had a drawing class for the cadets. The drawing class got cancelled and Trent was taking the command center duty.

His cell phone rang. Ethan started for a moment, before remembering that someone had brought their belongings from the simulator – including cell phones and morphers. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller. It was Conner.

"Hello?" he asked, answering the call.

"How's it going?" Conner shot back, sounding way too relaxed. Ethan fought the urge to make a snide comment. Conner and Kira hadn't been planning on going on a honeymoon, but Doctor Oliver insisted upon giving them the time off.

"Oh – fine. Paris ran into a wall."

"How did she manage that? Did she forget about her powers?"

Ethan stifled a laugh. "No – it's more like she was distracted."

"By _what_?"

"The question is not 'what', but 'who'."

There was a pause. "Trent?"

"You guessed it."

"Well, lock them in a closet for a couple of hours, so they can sort it out and no one will get hurt in training because of distraction."

"That's not a bad idea."

He and Conner exchanged small talk for a few more minutes – getting the details on how the honeymoon in New York was going. Ethan had never been much of one to prefer city life to rural living, but Conner seemed to really love being in the city. Newtech was smallish and still had a small-town feel. It was very much still the SPD town – that being the only thing that it was known for.

He disconnected the call with Conner just in time to see Austin enter the infirmary, going to Paris who was still sitting on the examining table in one of the rooms. Between the black eye, the nose bandage and her wrist brace, she looked worse than she actually was.

"What happened to you?" Austin asked.

"I broke my face." Paris paused. "On a wall."

* * *

"Are you sure this is going to work?" 

Bridge tried to fight the tremor in his voice as he followed Ryan Mitchell down the halls towards his room. Sky was still in Silver Hills – the last he had heard, the baby's birth was imminent and Sky would make it back in time for the read-through. Paris was now wigged out on painkillers, although Bridge suspected that wouldn't keep her away from rehearsal.

During all the commotion yesterday with getting Sky out of the force field, Bridge had almost forgotten about the brief conversation he had with Syd and Paris' uncle. Ryan had wanted to know what had happened – and anything he could describe from the relatively brief encounter. After taking copious notes, he had promised to come back the next day with some information for them. At the time, Bridge had been too spaced out to recall what Ryan said he did for a living, but now, it surprised him. He hadn't known that demon anthropologists existed.

"Sure it'll work," Ryan promised. "This is routine."

That didn't sound reassuring, but Bridge didn't say that. When Ryan arrived today, he had checked on Paris (at the request of her parents) and proceeded to explain to Bridge what he had found about what happened to them.

The research findings started with Ryan explaining that he thought Bridge was a hypersensitive person – someone more open to invasions and visitations from the supernatural realm. With most people, it tended to be an unknown aspect of their personalities, but with Bridge, he hypothesized that it was because of his powers. It would make invasions easier, since Bridge was already used to receiving and comprehending emotions and images. However, according to Ryan, their 'friend' must not have counted on him fighting back and doubly on Sky jumping into the fray.

"Demons exist," he had said. "Whether you guys want to believe in them or not."

The strange thing was that, throughout all of this explanation, he hadn't gotten the idea that Ryan was particularly religious. He definitely believed in demons and a dark side to humanity – and in the paranormal. Ryan seemed to have reached the conclusion that, if this dark side exists, then a light side must exist too. Simply put, it was only logical.

One of the only stipulations Ryan had given him before going back to Mariner Bay to do research was to stay out of his room. Last night, Sky had been sleeping in the infirmary. Z had offered to let him sleep in the girls' room – and Syd had been all right with it. However, Doctor Oliver found out and, rather than setting a potentially bad example, he had slept on an air mattress on the floor of Austin's room.

All too soon, they arrived at Bridge's room. Ryan stepped inside without hesitation. Almost immediately, something flew at him. Like he had been anticipating it, Ryan flung the thing aside and it crashed into the nightstands. Wide-eyed, Bridge edged into the room, bumping into his dresser.

"Show yourself," Ryan said calmly.

Some muffled growling was the only reply they got.

"Show yourself," Ryan repeated. Never once did he lose that calm, composed look. Just thinking about the panic they had felt over this, it was surprising.

With a faint 'pop', a woman appeared sitting on the headboard of Bridge's bed. He gaped at her – she had reptilian armor on and sported an impressive wingspan. Her features were vaguely Asian and her hair was a cocoa brown. She gave Ryan an unpleasant smile, revealing faintly pointed canines – that looked too pointed to be natural. Her expression was amused as Ryan stared at her with that same impassive expression.

"If it isn't the traitor." Her voice was like poisoned honey. Bridge shuddered.

"Vypra," Ryan replied, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

A thousand questions plagued Bridge – how did Ryan know this woman? Why were they acting like old friends? But he couldn't articulate anything as he pressed against his dresser, still staring at the scene before him.

"Who summoned you to bother these kids?"

Inwardly, Bridge bristled at being called a kid.

Vypra looked almost bored. "You didn't summon me – I don't have to tell you anything."

"True," Ryan took a step towards her. "But if you don't, I will banish you into oblivion and I know that you enjoy being an irritating poltergeist too much for that."

The woman shrieked and stood up on the bed. "I am Vypra!" she hissed. "I am the princess of all demons! I once served under Diabolico and Queen Bansheera!"

"I don't see either one of them leaving the Shadow Realm to annoy people."

Vypra ignored Ryan and focused on Bridge. He swallowed. "She told me that he was hypersensitive," she said. "She told me that it wouldn't be a problem to get into here and finish him off." Vypra's lips quirked into a smile. "Sick… remember all those times when you were in junior high when you were sick? She couldn't bring herself to do it herself, so she summoned me."

"Who?" Ryan asked.

"Don't you wish you knew?"

"Vypra – get out of here and leave these kids alone." He paused. "You know that messing with Power Rangers is a dangerous game."

Vypra lunged at him. Ryan pulled a small blaster from the pocket of his jacket and fired it. She froze mid-step and disappeared. Bridge clutched the top of his dresser, desperately trying to regain some focus. Who had Vypra been talking about? And how had she known that he had been sick a lot in junior high? Too many questions…

"Is she gone?"

Ryan nodded. "She's back in the Shadow World and whoever summoned her no longer has a hold over her." He motioned to the blaster. "Handy invention from Lightspeed." He paused. "She won't be bothering you guys anymore."

* * *

The time was nearing lights-out. Sky knew that Austin would go around in a few minutes and turn out all the lights in the halls and rooms – leaving only the emergency lights. Their room had been de-demonized and Bridge was out like a light. He was sprawled on his stomach and snoring softly. The door to their room was open and light from the hall spilled in. 

Someone knocked on their door. He looked up from his book to see Z peering into their darkened room – the only light still on was the lamp on his nightstand.

"How long has he been passed out?" she whispered, indicating Bridge.

"Couple of hours," Sky replied. "I don't think he slept when he had to bunk in with Austin." He placed a bookmark in his book, setting it aside.

Z shook her head. "Typical." She came into their room and set Bridge's cell phone on his night stand. "He left this in my room – his mother was trying to get a hold of him earlier."

"What's going on?"

"She wouldn't say – just told me to have Bridge call her back as soon as possible."

"Well – he's out of commission until tomorrow morning."

Z just smiled. She leaned down and kissed Bridge's temple. Sky picked up his book again. It didn't surprise him that Bridge left his stuff in Z's room – Lords knows that he had enough odd things of Syd's around here.

"Night, Sky," she called softly as she left the room.

"Night, Z."

* * *

Sky's alarm had already gone off and he was in the shower, meaning that Bridge still had about half an hour to sleep before he absolutely had to get up and do something. Friday morning… tomorrow he didn't have a shift or rehearsal or anything… What in the world had possessed Paris and Sky to give him the male lead in the play? His blanket was over his head and Z's baby blanket was draped over his pillow. He inhaled the lingering scent of her perfume, wishing he didn't have to get out of bed and wishing that she were here… 

His own alarm went off. Reaching out an arm, he slammed the snooze button. Someone was still in the shower and he wasn't sure if it was Sky or Austin. The one incentive to get up earlier would be to actually have a hot shower in the morning and not a lukewarm one. But that would require beating Sky – who got up early to get work done – and Austin – who decided he needed to be up in case the rest of the squad needed something from him.

"Bridge?"

"Five more minutes, Sky," he grumbled.

Someone was tugging his blanket away from his head. Sky never did that – he would give up after a while and claim that he wouldn't be responsible if Bridge was late. One time Sky threw a shoe at him – but that had been a long time ago.

"Bridge, don't you have a patrol shift at nine?"

Wait – that wasn't even Sky's voice. Bridge threw the blanket off his head and rolled over so he could see who was talking to him. "Wait—what… Dad?"

Mike Corbett was standing over his son's bed, smiling. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're waiting until the last moment to get out of bed."

Bridge sat up. "What's going on? What are you doing here? I thought that you guys weren't going to be here until Thanksgiving!"

"We moved here."

"Huh?"

His father sat down on the edge of his bed. "I got transferred to the LA GSA headquarters. We got here last night, but couldn't get a hold of you."

Now that he was fully awake, Bridge could begin to comprehend what was going on. "Where are you guys living? I thought Mom wanted to stay on Mirinoi."

"She's lived on Earth before – we'll survive." He paused. "We found a house in Newtech City – not far from here."

Bridge's mind was racing and he had a million questions, mainly why no one had told him about this move sooner. However, he could only fully think of and articulate one question.

"Can I see the new house?" 

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well - the normal thanks to all my reviewers! You guys are completely cool - I enjoy reading the comments muchly. And I just realized that the section of this that includes a Halloween party is most probably going to be posted after Halloween. Oh well! So it goes. Once more, lots of thanks and cookies! 


	9. Shadows I

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Nine: Shadows I**

_Year 2021 - October_

"What?" Even to her own ears, her voice sounded like a screech. Z couldn't believe it – wouldn't believe it. Doctor Oliver couldn't possibly be thinking of sending two of them into that place, couldn't possibly be thinking of sending A-Squad rangers…

Austin was starting to look a little sorry that he had let the information spill at all. He clutched his data pad to his chest and took a step backward, edging for the door of the lounge. Bridge frowned at her, not sure what the big deal was. He didn't know about this. He had a general knowledge of her past, but he didn't know specifics, didn't know about that place, didn't know what had happened to her there.

"I'm going to go find Sky and Syd," Austin said slowly, before he bolted out the door.

Z rolled her eyes – Austin tended to think that outbursts in general were directed at him. Where he got _that_ particular personality trait from was up for debate. Z leaned back against the couch as Bridge continued to frown at her.

"He can't be sending rangers there," she muttered.

"Z," Bridge replied. "The person they're trying to arrest is in charge of several drug rings. Why shouldn't he send his best officers in there?"

She sighed. "Because he doesn't know – they don't know. The men there won't hesitate to kill them if they find out they're SPD and not whores."

"Z, I don't see why—"

She stood up. "I've got to go talk to Doctor Oliver. Maybe he can call off this assignment." She hurried from the lounge, ignoring the fact that Bridge had been about to say something, probably something reasonable. Z was beyond reason. There was no way she wanted to see more of her few friends maimed or killed at the hand of that… that… whorehouse! The few friends she had on the streets were dead because of it – and she did not want to see Paris and Kira join their ranks. Kira had just gotten married! She had a husband and two stepdaughters that adored her! It wasn't fair to put her life in jeopardy.

The command center was silent as she entered. A couple of officers were monitoring various things – and the person she wanted was nowhere to be found. Of course, that shouldn't surprise her. He tended to have a lot of briefings on undercover assignments in his personal quarters. She turned to the nearest person.

"Where's the commander?"

The officer motioned to his quarters. She didn't bother to thank the officer – most people tried to avoid making the ranger squads unhappy. Ordinarily, she would have stopped to thank the person, but too much was happening today.

Not stopping to knock or announce herself, she walked into his quarters. Paris and Kira were seated on one of the couches, studying some holographic layouts. Doctor Oliver was talking about entering through one of the corridors and pointing out various exits. All of them stopped dead when she burst in.

"You can't send them in there," she said pointblank.

Their commander took one glance at her before turning back to Kira and Paris. "I've downloaded the rest of the information into your morphers. We'll have another briefing before you go in – come to me with any questions." The female A-Squad rangers nodded and made their way out of the room. Paris had a neutral expression on her face, while Kira looked concerned that Z was this upset.

"Sit down, Evans," Doctor Oliver said, motioning to the couch. Z glared at him, but flopped down onto the offered seat. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Now why can't I send Kira and Paris on this assignment?"

Z opened her mouth to speak, but realized how ridiculous all her arguments would sound. She was breaking a key rule in being any sort of police officer – she was letting her emotions overrule her mind. "They'll die," she whispered.

"Do you know that for a fact?" Doctor Oliver's tone was sympathetic.

"No," she replied, her voice sounding smaller and smaller by the moment. "I've worked at that place before – it's not friendly. You're only hope is to get thrown out before someone decides to kill you."

Doctor Oliver nodded. "I know that – that's why we have to make this arrest. It will start to dismantle their chain of command."

"It's too dangerous!" she insisted.

"We're cops – everything we do is dangerous."

"Send me – or one of the boys! Don't send them!"

"Don't send them because they're women or because they don't know what they're getting into?" The question was serious.

"I don't know."

"Z," he said kindly. "I have no doubts that this assignment will be a success. Paris has no problems throwing grenades into buildings to save the integrity of a mission. I already got a detailed lesson on how to make a last minute Molotov cocktail." He shook his head. "If there is anyone who can do this, it's Paris." A smile tugged at his lips. "And she'll probably distribute some feminist information while she's at it."

"It's just that—"

"Your fears are not ungrounded," he interrupted. "Right now, I need you to be supportive of the mission – offer any advice you can." He gave her a meaningful look. "We are professionals, Z. We do the job we're being paid to do. I can't imagine that you want that particular ring to continue festering."

"No," she admitted.

"And the B-Squad has the weekend off. Concentrate on having fun this weekend and don't worry about Paris and Kira." Doctor Oliver gave her a concerned look. "What are your plans for this weekend?"

"I don't have any yet."

Doctor Oliver just shook his head. "Don't worry about this, Z. What I need you to do right now is give any information you might have to Paris and Kira."

Z nodded and left the room.

* * *

"You know, the last undercover assignment I went on was at an office building. This is so much more fun than business suits and heels." Paris leaned closer to the mirror to apply yet another layer of mascara. "I always did like undercover missions."

Kira just shook her head at her teammate. Paris had an interesting definition of fun. However, it wasn't Paris' flippant attitude towards the assignment that was bothering her. She glanced to the couch in Paris' apartment. Z was huddled in the corner, looking more and more miserable as they came closer to being ready to go. She looked like she had spent a fair amount of time crying from her red, blotchy face. She clutched a green stuffed dinosaur to her chest in a death grip. All in all, she looked horrible.

The A-Squad Yellow Ranger turned back to the mirror, inspecting her own make-up. Like Paris, she was wearing too much and they did look like whores. Paris was wearing denim cut-offs with black fishnets and a black halter top. Stiletto heels and a huge purse completed her ensemble. She had on a pair of black bike-shorts with a yellow sports' bra. Her own shoes were a pair of beat-up flip-flops with jewels. Their hairstyles were purposely meant to appear all over the place, like they spent a lot of time on the streets.

She watched idly as Paris went to her jewelry box and began extracting her gaudiest pieces of jewelry. This assignment was by no means easy or going to be fun – no early Halloween party for them. However, she found herself enjoying the preparation process. Paris went on most of the undercover assignments with a male member of the squad – the last one had been her and Conner in that office building. And, if she and Paris succeeded in this, it was likely that Tommy would make them the permanent undercover hit team for the A-Squad.

Z sniffled. Kira finished putting a large pair of hoop earrings in, before sitting next to her, her arm going around the younger woman. "It's all right," she reassured her. "We're going to be fine. Have you seen the contents of Paris' purse?"

That got a small smile out of the B-Squad Yellow Ranger.

Paris left the bedroom and went out into the main area of her apartment. The SPD apartments came with one, two or three bedrooms. The three-bedroom apartments were reserved for families – she and Conner had one. Paris had a one-bedroom apartment. Besides the one bedroom and the bathroom, the rest was efficiency, the living room, dining room and kitchen all in one space.

The A-Squad Pink Ranger came back into the room with a glass of water. "Don't get dehydrated," she said to Z as the younger girl took the glass.

Kira would never fail to be amazed at how young Paris and the rest of the B-Squad were. Sky was the oldest at twenty-one, while the twins came in a year behind at twenty. Syd was nineteen and Z and Bridge were eighteen. They were barely old enough to vote and most of them weren't old enough to drink.

"Thanks," Z said in a small voice.

"We've got a safe house," Kira continued talking to Z. "That's where we'll be staying at night – Doctor O is sending in some 'clients' who will be looking for us." She smoothed down Z's hair. "If all goes well, we'll be able to make the arrest by Sunday."

"I know."

"And with what you've told us, this should go even smoother."

"Yeah." Z still looked depressed.

"Good grief, we're not going to die!" Paris called as she double-checked the contents of the voluminous purse. "I already have one set of parents, an uncle and a grandfather who worry about that constantly. I don't need anyone else!"

"What _ did_ your mother say about this?" Z asked.

"Oh – she said, good luck, be careful and stay away from the drugs."

The look on Z's face clearly said that she thought Paris' entire family was demented. Kira inwardly seconded that. The Graysons were all extremely close – though Carter and Dana tended to be a little understated when it came to their opinion of their children's occupation. She could see Carter's reaction to Paris' news – 'oh that's nice dear' and then he would ask if she wanted something to eat. The other thing about that family was that Carter was the cook – no one ate Dana's cooking if they could avoid it.

"My dad sent some cookies and stuff," Paris continued like her mother's advice was nothing out of the ordinary. "They're in the fridge if you guys want them sometime this weekend." She paused. "Although Syd and my illustrious brother are going home this weekend, where they'll probably pick up more junk food."

"Thanks," Z said, clearly lost at the change of subject.

"No sweat – you should try some of the fudge. It is heavenly."

Paris turned to her bed and shouldered the huge purse. Her low-riding shorts and halter top showed her tattoo on the small of her back. It was a small dragon done in shades of purple and blue, breathing fire.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Z commented.

Paris looked nonchalant. "Yeah," she replied. "Austin and I got them right before he went to the Nebula Academy. His is red and orange."

"Is his in the same place?" Paris nodded. "Does Syd have one?"

"Are you kidding? That girl is afraid of non-medicinal needles." Paris motioned to Kira. Kira took the cue and stood up. "We've got to go check in with Doctor O before we take off. Have fun this weekend!"

Z followed them out of the apartment and went towards the dorms. Kira frowned – she couldn't help but worry about Z. There was so much that the younger Yellow Ranger didn't want to share with anyone. It would lead to a world of hurt before it finally surfaced.

* * *

Z walked into her room – glad that Syd was elsewhere and not hanging around their room, doing whatever it was that she did. The B-Squad Yellow Ranger had found Austin in his room along with Sky and Bridge. The three B-Squad males had been engaged in a cutthroat card game of war – and Sky was winning. She supposed that it was the one card game they could play where Bridge wouldn't have some kind of advantage. It was all chance. The three had stopped ribbing each other and given her their undivided attention.

Austin had been speechless at her request to see his tattoo. "How did you know I have a tattoo?" he had sputtered.

"You have a tattoo?" Sky had asked.

"Cool!" Bridge had added.

After warily asking her where she learned about it from, Austin had acquiesced and shown her the tattoo. It was in the same place as Paris' – on the small of his back and it rode just above the waistband of his uniform pants. The dragon was the same as Paris', but his was indeed in shades of red and orange. The dragon looked fierce like it was protecting something from an unknown evil.

Finally, Austin broke down and told the three of them the whole story about the tattoos and what possessed them to get them.

"I was being reassigned to the Nebula Academy," Austin had explained. "I was leaving in September just before Syd would arrive as a new cadet." He took a deep breath. "Paris and I had never been apart for anything long term like we knew this assignment was going to be. So we decided to do something extremely permanent – just to know that we would always have each other."

"What about the rings?" Sky had asked.

"The rings aren't permanent." Austin shrugged. "So we went to this place downtown and got the tattoos done. The dragon we chose is a protector – kind of like we would always protect each other, no matter how far apart we were."

"Did it hurt?" Bridge seemed extremely fascinated by the fact that Austin had a tattoo. Z knew it probably came from the fact that he was terrified of all needles in all forms.

Austin had shrugged. "For a little while. But it was worth it."

Z had left them shortly after that. She still felt raw about the undercover mission – terror acute as anything she had felt was still under the surface. It amazed her that the twins shared such a close bond – that never came forth in their daily interactions. The boys had gone back to their card game with Austin getting the upper hand for once.

She picked up her cell phone and hit the speed dial for her father's work number. Everyone else had plans for this weekend off – Sky was going home, Bridge's aunt and uncle were in town and his family had plans, Austin and Syd were going to Mariner Bay and she was doing nothing. She hoped that her father was actually in his office and not in an appointment.

"Hello?" came her father's voice after the third ring.

"Hi Daddy," she replied.

"Z? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine – can I come home this weekend?"

"Of course! When do you want us to pick you up?"

"Friday afternoon sometime."

There was some shuffling. "My last appointment is at four – but school lets out at three-thirty. Your mom can come get you at about four. Is that all right?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. I'll see you Friday."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Z curled up into a ball on her bed, wanting to forget the horrible memories that plagued her, wishing it hadn't happened.

* * *

Bridge leaned against the headboard of Z's bed. She was sitting between his legs, her back resting against his chest. From her even breathing, she was either asleep or just really comfortable. His arms were wrapped tightly around her middle. After she left Austin's room earlier that afternoon, he had known she was still upset. He decided to give her some time before looking for her and offering comfort. Z was a solitary person when it came to being upset or in pain. But she needed someone – as much as she didn't want to admit it, she needed people more acutely now than ever.

All he had had to do was come into the room and offer her a silent embrace. She had accepted it without question and, somehow, they ended up in their current position. As much as he depended on her, she depended on him. He knew this – it was the give and take ebb of their relationship. Each knew when the other needed comfort and to be taken care of.

Bridge pressed a kiss to her temple. He wished he could undo what had been done to her in the past. Most of the wounds were still raw and bleeding. There was a reason he always let her initiate sex – he absolutely did not want her to feel like he was taking advantage of her. Their lovemaking was about mutual pleasure – not reliving past scars.

Z shifted, craning her neck so she could see him while still lounging against him. "Hey," she said with a small smile.

"Hey," he echoed, taking advantage of their position to give her a soft, open-mouthed kiss. She smiled as they parted, looking content. "Want to come with me this weekend?" he offered, not wanting her to be alone all weekend.

She shook her head. "That's a family thing."

"You're family," he protested.

"No – not yet at any rate."

"You're family as far as my mother is concerned," he muttered. "And she's made it abundantly clear on more than one occasion that her opinion is the only opinion that counts around our house."

Z snickered. "I like your mom."

"She likes you too." Bridge smiled as Z settled back into her previous position. His parents had moved to Earth a few weeks ago and they were still unpacking their house and getting settled. His younger brother was three months old, making it all the more difficult. However, his mother had friends on Earth – so Ashley Hammond and Kelsey Winslow, both other former Yellow Rangers, were helping out. His father just packed up Jordan and the pair of them stayed out of the way.

Z rolled over so that her chest was pressed against his. She caught his lips in a gentle kiss. "When's rehearsal?" she asked.

Bridge glanced at the clock on her nightstand. "Seven," he replied. Since Paris was off on an undercover assignment, Sky was in charge of tonight's rehearsal. No rehearsals were scheduled for the weekends until closer to the November run of the show. Bridge thought there was a technical rehearsal sometime over the weekend, but that didn't concern him or Z, not yet at any rate.

She swung one leg over his and then the other, so that she was straddling his waist. Her next kiss was more insistent and his body began to react. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked breathlessly. She was upset – did she want this situation to go further?

"I have so many memories of being used – raped," she whispered against his lips. "I want this with you – I want it with pleasure, with love."

Hours later, in the faint afterglow, he studied her body – fully taking in and appreciating the scars on her thighs, wanting to know how she got those. He traced a jagged scar running from her hip to the inside of her thigh, the negative energy associated with it stinging his fingers, causing his eyes to tear up.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, pulling the blanket over them as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He set her alarm for six – so that they would have enough time to get ready for rehearsal.

But his thoughts wouldn't settle. She was asleep, looking more peaceful than she had since finding out about the undercover mission. He kept picturing the hideous scars – knowing that the infliction of each had to have been horrific. He had known about the hurt she suffered, knew about the scars…

The scars might be fading, but the wounds on her soul were fresh as ever.

_ To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yeah - the Halloween stuff is in the next section. I think I posted my Halloween story after Halloween last year, so in keeping with tradition, Halloween stuff after the fact. :) Thanks to everyone who reviewed - there was a great outpouring of love for Paris last chapter and that makes me grin. I'm so glad that everyone is appreciating her! 


	10. Shadows II

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Ten: Shadows II**

TGIF – for the first time since being a cadet, Sky could fully appreciate the ramifications of that particular catch phrase. It was Thursday night – their rehearsal was over and he didn't have another rehearsal until Sunday. That was more of a tech thing – Ethan wanted his preliminary opinion on some lighting designs. Friday meant he got to go home and relax for the weekend instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

The rehearsal had actually gone well, despite the fact that Paris was off on an assignment and he had been in charge. The purpose of the rehearsal was to finish choreographing the dance scenes and then practice them. The choreographer, a first year cadet who had been recruited for her extensive ballet, tap and jazz experience, had proceeded to schedule individual rehearsals with the people who had solo dance spots. So, the dance numbers were finished and all that was left to do was rehearse them until they could all do the dance in their collective sleep.

He walked into the lounge and was startled to see Syd there – her arms crossed over her chest like she had been waiting for him. Wracking his brain to think of something that might have made her angry, he made his way to the replicator and got a bottle of water. He hadn't walked back to the dorms with Syd and Bridge after rehearsal since Trent wanted to show him the final set designs and start getting things built. The set crew had a call for all day Saturday where Trent and Ethan expected to get some good progress on the sets.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked in a low voice.

Sky frowned. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know – maybe because you've been avoiding me for the past two weeks, because you're so busy with the precious show."

"Syd, you're the lead female," he said. She was just as busy with the show as he was – perhaps even more so because she had a part to learn along with songs, choreography and blocking. Overall, he thought the actors had it worse than he did.

"That has nothing to do with it!" she hissed. "You've been spending all your free time with Paris." She spat out her sister's name like it was poison.

"She's the director," he protested.

"And you still haven't told me why you agreed to be the assistant director!"

Sky ran a hand through his hair – so they were back to this. He had thought he successfully avoided telling her why he was so involved with the show. Apparently all the evasiveness had come to nothing. How could he explain to her that he wasn't trying to be untruthful, it was just that her older sister was a manipulative witch? It was just pictures of him at a party before he met Syd – what was he trying to hide?

His silence seemed to be enough of an answer for her.

"That's what I thought."

"You thought _what_?" Sky asked, confused.

"You've been cheating on me with my sister!"

Syd turned on her heel and stalked out of the lounge. Sky gaped after her for a moment before the full implications of her accusation dawned on him. How could she think that he would be unfaithful? "Syd!" he called, hurrying after her, but she was nowhere to be found. He let out a long breath and sank down into one of the couches in the lounge. He should go after her and explain that he had to spend a lot of time with Paris because of their jobs for the show. But Syd didn't want to hear that, not yet. He knew that, until she calmed down, she wouldn't listen to a single thing he said.

"How does my life get so screwed up?" he muttered to himself.

His thoughts went to the vault in the family mansion in Silver Hills. Since he started dating Syd, he had been saving up money. The result of that scrimping and saving for over a year was stored in the vault – safe until he decided it was time. Had all of the little feelings and intuitions, telling him that this was _the_ woman for him been wrong? No… he loved Syd with every part of his being. She knew that…

Leaping to his feet, he knew that he had to go to her room and make things right with her now. He had to make her see that he wouldn't cheat on her with Paris of all people! The walk to Syd's room seemed longer than normal – and, just as he raised a hand to knock, Z burst out of the room, the doors closing behind her.

"I wouldn't go in there, if I was you," Z said. "She wants to castrate you."

Sky groaned, banging his head against the wall next to the door. He turned around, so that his back was pressed to the wall.

"Did you actually do it?"

"No," he retorted. This was ridiculous.

"I didn't think so," Z replied with a shrug. "She's beyond listening to reason."

"Damn."

"That's the understatement of the year."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Wait a few days, bring her some flowers, fall to your knees and profess your undying love for her and tell her that you would never cheat on her."

"Romance novel much?"

Z gave him a bored look. Sky frowned – noticing that dark smudges under her eyes and the fact that she appeared to have lost some weight. The Yellow Ranger looked exhausted and almost to the point of anemia. Part of him hated being the B-Squad medic, because he focused on these changes in people, but, damn it, he wanted them to stay healthy and, consequently, safe.

"Are you all right?" he asked. His stomach felt like someone had dropped a rock in it after hearing about Syd – he needed to focus on something else or he felt like he might throw up.

"I'm fine," Z replied with a smile that was a little too jovial. "I was just going to get my clothes out of the dryer."

The laundry room for the dorm was in the hall outside the boys' floor. It was large enough that a dozen or so cadets could do laundry without stepping on each other's toes – and it was also large enough that no one had an interest in anyone else's clothing. Then again, there were strict regulations against touching another cadet's personal belongings. That was defined as stealing and stealing resulted in automatic expulsion.

"I'll walk with you," he said. "I've got some books you wanted to borrow."

Z nodded and they headed towards the boys' floor in silence. Sky felt like throwing something at the wall – first Syd accusing him of doing things he didn't do and now Z looking extremely depressed and unhealthy.

* * *

"How did you guys end up as our 'clients'?" Kira asked as the four of them entered the safe house that night and collapsed on the various sofas in the bare room. Trent shrugged as Conner shut and locked the door.

"Tommy thought it would be better to have us, rather than some random patrol officers," Conner said, sitting down next to his wife and putting an arm around her. "Plus you'd recognize us and be comfortable around us." He paused and grinned. "How do we look?"

"Like frat boys," Paris muttered, kicking off her heels.

Trent just shook his head. It had been a last minute decision to have them come along as the clients at the safe house. The two women had been on the job for one day and hadn't had much time to organize and plan the arrest. He and Conner had tried to look inconspicuous in their surroundings, but had apparently failed. Trent didn't think it was unusual for well-dressed people to be in this part of town looking for a prostitute.

"So what are the plans for tomorrow?" Conner asked.

"More of the same," Kira replied with a yawn. "Where are the girls?" she asked Conner.

"I got a great babysitter," he said with false bravado.

"Ethan is a great babysitter?" Trent muttered.

Kira rolled her eyes. Paris stood up, collecting her heels. "I'm assuming there's some place to work out in here."

"There's a large room upstairs," Conner replied. "Just make sure that all the blinds and stuff are shut."

"I've been on undercover assignments before," she retorted with a glare.

Trent watched as she disappeared up the stairs. Earlier, some of their clothing had been stashed there. Kira and Paris were supposed to sleep at the safe house – with Trent staying there as their back-up at night. Conner was just part of the escort, since Tommy understood his family obligations and knew that both he and Kira could not be out on assignment at the same time.

Conner and Kira were starting to look entirely too comfortable – and Trent knew when it was his cue to leave. "I'll go see what Paris is up to," he said, starting for the stairs. Conner whispered something to Kira and both smirked, but Trent didn't bother to decode it and figure out what was going on. He knew that Ethan had probably passed some gossip onto the other members of their team… there was nothing between him and Paris and there never would be. The age difference was the first problem – and it went on ad nauseam from there.

The stairs in the safe house opened into a large rec room – bedrooms were off to either side along with the bathrooms. It reminded him of his house in northern California, built with large open rooms and few walls. The downstairs was pretty much one large room divided by furniture and screens, while the upstairs was little more than a loft with a large bed. He had a sudden flash of Paris lying on that bed – a seductive smile on her face. No – he had to stop those thoughts. This wasn't going to happen.

Paris was standing in the middle of the room, now wearing work-out clothes – a simple pair of black pants and a black tank top. Her face had been scrubbed free of make-up and her hair brushed back into a ponytail. Her arms were extended and Trent recognized what she was doing as a yoga pose. He had done yoga for a few years while he had been writing comics full time. He still remembered some of it – used it to relax and find his center.

The A-Squad Pink Ranger dropped her arms and turned to him. Her lips tugged into a smile. "Can I help you, Fernandez?" she asked in a feigned sweet voice.

"Conner and Kira are doing their newlywed cuddle thing downstairs and I found it a little revolting – so I thought I'd see what you're doing, Grayson." He emphasized her last name. The members of the A and B squads were on a first name basis, but Paris insisted on calling just about everyone by their last name or given name in the course of duty. She had already been appalled to find out that Trent wasn't short for something, so she insisted upon calling him Fernandez.

"Whatever did happen to casual sex?" Her tone was sardonic.

He shrugged. "You got me."

"So…" She trailed off, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Casual sex?"

"If you're propositioning me – it needs some work."

"You get propositioned often?"

"I used to." He paused, raising an eyebrow at her. "You?"

"I did – until our ex-commander stopped the parties." She shrugged, taking a step closer to him. "So can we cut all this bullshit? You like me and I like you."

Trent blinked. She was so close to him now – all it would take was for him to reach out and pull her to him, so that their bodies were touching. He could feel her warm heat, smell her shampoo – it was tangy, something tropical. It would be so easy to give into what his body wanted and kiss her senseless. "We can't do this," he said hoarsely.

Paris just gave him a bored look. God – this woman was intimidating.

"I'm too old for you."

"You're what – fifteen, sixteen years older than me?"

"More or less."

She took that final step and closed the space between them. Her lips were almost touching his ear, breathing hot air as she whispered, "In my experience, that's a very good thing." She pulled back and found himself lost in her gaze.

The closeness was too much – his hands went to her waist, pulling her close to him so that their bodies were touching. Her arms settled around his neck, a slight smile on her lips. He didn't think as he touched his lips to hers in the lightest of kisses – but it wasn't enough and soon what started out innocent became passionate and almost violent.

There was pure energy in that kiss – and so much more. He felt a warm feeling spread through his stomach and settle in his groin. He tried to ignore his physical reaction to the kiss, but how long had it been since someone could make him fall over with just one glance?

Breaking the kiss as gently as he could, he rested his forehead against hers. "See?" she whispered against his lips. "There's something there."

Not sure how it happened, he found himself on the floor, lying next to her, their bodies pressed close, kissing like tomorrow wasn't going to come. He just enjoyed the sensations – her body straining against his, their dancing tongues… As reluctant as he was to do it, he tore his mouth away from hers.

"We can't do this," he whispered. "The others—"

"Don't have to know," she finished for him. "Not yet, at any rate."

She pushed him onto his back, one leg swinging over his, so that she was effectively straddling his waist. She leaned over him, continuing the kiss.

"No," he protested softly. "We can't have sex yet."

She just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Let's at least go on a date first."

"All right." He smiled as she stifled a laugh.

"You get out of this undercover mission alive." His fingers danced up her sides, making her shiver delightfully under his touch. "I'll take you to dinner and we can—"

"Fuck like bunnies?" Her tone was dead serious – not a trace of humor on her face.

"Colloquially expressed, but essentially true."

* * *

Sky was in a bad mood – Bridge could feel it. This mood was particular darker than his normal moods. When he got upset, there was normally one key cause and he settled down after a while. However, there were multiple causes this time and Bridge wasn't sure he wanted to know what had set Sky off since he last him at the end of rehearsal.

He had a feeling one of the causes was Syd – she had been fuming for the past week, but Sky had been too busy and exhausted to notice. The Green Ranger didn't know what Syd was so upset about – all he knew was that Sky was the object of it. The upcoming weekend plans didn't help matters there – they were both heading home so there would be no quality time together. Of course, now that he thought about it, that was how Taylor found out that Sky and Syd were sleeping together…

Sky came back into their room – returning from where he had been giving Z the books he promised to loan her. One look told Bridge that he was just really upset and not really in a foul mood. "What is it with all these women?" he muttered to himself.

"Why the sudden misogynistic attitude?" Bridge asked.

Sky looked up at him from where he had been studying his bedspread. "I don't hate women," he replied sharply. "It's just that Syd's completely mad at me – and I'm still not sure why. And Z is losing weight and won't talk about that either."

Bridge had known that Z had lost some weight – not enough for anyone to become completely concerned yet, but enough that people would notice. And he couldn't help him out with Syd either because he wasn't sure what was going on in that girl's head. Sky sank down onto his bed, looking a little… lost. Bridge opened his mouth to say something, but his cell phone began to ring.

He sighed and went to his nightstand, picking up the phone – he let out another despondent sigh. It was his adopted mother – again. He hadn't called her back since she called him initially almost a month ago. This was just like his luck for her to call while he had an audience in the room.

"Who is it?" Sky asked.

Bridge started. "My adopted mother."

"Oh – why would you need to talk to her?"

The cell phone stopped ringing and beeped, indicating he had missed a call. "She keeps calling me," Bridge replied. "I think I should just talk to her to smooth over anything – I mean I stopped talking to them a long time ago."

Instead of looking sympathetic or commiserating, Sky looked appalled. The Blue Ranger pushed himself to his feet. "You don't need to call her," he hissed in a dangerous tone of voice. "They treated you like shit – I met them that one time. They thought you were a freak – they wouldn't hug you for Chrissake!" He narrowed his eyes. "You owe nothing to them and you certainly don't have to talk to them."

"Sky, it's not that—" His phone started ringing. He glanced at the number. "It's her again," he said softly.

"Don't answer it!"

"But—"

He didn't have a chance to finish his protest. Sky had taken two steps and, for all intents and purposes, tackled him. There was no way he could answer the phone with Sky doing his best to get the phone out of his hand. Bridge rolled out of Sky's initial tackle, jumping up onto his bed, the phone still ringing.

While he was more flexible and agile than Sky, he had forgotten just how much sheer strength Sky had. Getting the higher ground was not going to deter his roommate in the slightest. Sky hit in the back of the knees with his forearm and Bridge went down onto his bed, landing on his backside. This was the exact reason he and Sky didn't spar – Sky always won, because he had the determination to keep going until his opponent was exhausted.

Bridge rolled under Sky's arm, landing on the floor – not as gracefully as he would have liked, but on the floor all the same. A moment after that motion, Sky landed next to him on the floor and Bridge knew that he was effectively trapped in a headlock. His phone had stopped ringing and did the beeping thing again.

"Collins! Corbett!"

Sky released him and they both scrambled to their feet. Doctor Oliver was standing in the door of their room, looking a little puzzled as to why they had been beating each other up.

"I understand that this is a weird form of male bonding, but I wouldn't recommend jumping on and off the bed quite like that – spinal cord injuries." He surveyed them with a neutral, dark-eyed gaze. "What is going on?"

Bridge's phone started ringing again. He was so surprised that he dropped it on the floor, wincing as it hit the carpet. Doctor Oliver strode across the room and picked up the phone. He read the number aloud. "Who is this, Corbett?"

"His adopted mother," Sky answered.

"I don't believe I asked you, Collins," Doctor Oliver said, flipping open the phone and pressing the correct button to talk. "Hello?" he said into the phone. "Bridge Corbett's phone. This is Commander Thomas Oliver speaking." If it had been someone else in this situation, Bridge would have laughed. "Who is speaking?" He paused. "Marie Powell – Bridge's adopted mother. Well, I don't know you or much about you, but I do know that you are causing considerable distress to my rangers and I can't have that interfering with their work, health and safety. Don't call again unless Bridge calls you first." He disconnected the call.

Bridge could feel Doctor Oliver's gaze on him as he stared at the ground.

"Bridge," Doctor Oliver said, his tone kind. "How long has she been calling you?"

"About a month."

"Do you want her calling you?"

"No." His voice sounded small and timid.

"I would suggest getting your number changed at the earliest possible convenience." He gave them both a scrutinizing stare. "And since you two seem to have nothing better to do than beat each other up, might I suggest now? I'm sure Collins won't mind giving you a ride to your phone provider." With that, he left their room.

Bridge met Sky's gaze. "Come on," Sky said, picking up the keys to his car. As they went to the parking garage, Bridge realized that Sky was trying once more to protect him…

_ To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** I was going to do reviewer responses for this chapter, but several things have attacked me at once - I wanted to update, but ran out of time for responses. (Blame the stories I have to workshop, the Spanish quiz and my Psych of Women research paper... oi! Not to mention that my professors seem to think I want nothing more than to read for their class...) With my paltry excuses out of the way, I hope that everyone continues to enjoy this piece - keep on leaving the great feedback! 


	11. Shadows III

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Eleven: Shadows III**

The day couldn't go by fast enough. Z felt almost like a zombie walking through her duties and the training exercises that they had. However, the weird thing was that none of them, except for Bridge, seemed to be functioning on all levels. Austin seemed to have noticed it too, because he spent a lot of time frowning at them and looking as though he wanted to figure out what was going on, but didn't want to ask.

She knew why Bridge was all of a sudden cheerful – he had gotten his cell phone number changed last night and didn't have to worry about his adopted mother calling him and bothering him. She found it strange that he cheered up once he knew she couldn't contact him, but she had never claimed to know how Bridge's brain worked. After giving them all scrutinizing glances, Austin had decided it would be better for him to remain in Newtech City for the weekend, rather than going to Mariner Bay.

Z sat on the stone bench outside the main entrance to the SPD Academy. Her yellow backpack sat next to her, containing all the items she needed for a weekend at home. It was nearing four – and her mother was picking her up at four. Ordinarily, she would have waited in her room and the person at the front desk would have given her a call to let her know that her mother had arrived, but not today… She wanted to get away from here as quickly as possible and forget about that pimp house…

The familiar white car pulled into the main drive – the long driveway in front of the academy that was mostly for show. Everyone who knew anything knew long-term parking was in the parking garage in the back. Her mother's car had a Mickey Mouse antenna ball and a bumper sticker from Turtle Cove Elementary. Of course, she now had a window sticker that read 'Mom of a SPD Academy Graduate.'

Shooting to her feet, she pulled her backpack on one shoulder and dashed to the car. Her mother looked a little concerned as she unlocked the doors and slid into the passenger seat. "Hi, Mom," she said with a smile.

"Hey, honey," her mother replied. Z knew that she could see right through the façade she had put up. Alyssa Evans was not a stupid woman – and she could read her husband and daughter better than anyone. However, Z also knew that she wouldn't push her for information until she was ready to talk about it. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she replied quickly.

Alyssa's dark eyes said clearly that she didn't believe her, but she didn't say anything. She just put the car into gear and pulled down the long drive, merging onto the street in front of the building. Z watched the familiar sights of Newtech City fade away as they got onto the freeway that would take them to Turtle Cove.

Soon enough, her mother pulled the car into the driveway of their house.

"I'm going to crash before dinner," she told her mother as they came into the house. Her mother nodded, looking concerned.

"I'll wake you up for dinner," she replied.

Z turned and took the steps two at a time, going to her room. The house had three bedrooms – one had always been a guest room. The room that had been hers had been decorated to her tastes over the summer. Gone was the pink paint and blue bedding – the walls were a soft baby yellow, warm and inviting, not loud and harsh like yellow could be. She had found yellow bedding with a reversible comforter – one side was plain yellow and the other was a light green plaid. Her posters littered the walls – her mother had obviously come in here and put her clothes in the dresser, straightening up from the mess that Z managed to make in all her living spaces.

Dropping her backpack on the desk, she unzipped it and pulled out her pajamas. The bright green pajama pants were actually Bridge's – he didn't wear them often, so she had commandeered them a few months ago. Changing into the pajama pants and a yellow tank top, she pulled Olive from her backpack and got under the covers of her bed.

Her thoughts churned. She didn't want to remember the place where Paris and Kira were on that undercover assignment. As much as she wanted the organization to be brought down, she didn't want her friends to get hurt either. And she didn't want her friends pestering her this weekend – part of the reason she hadn't told any of them her plans, most importantly, where she would be this weekend.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Why are you still hanging around here?"

Sky looked up from where he had been trying to pack some things for the weekend. Austin was standing in his door – having changed from his uniform to a long-sleeved white shirt and jeans. The B-Squad Red Ranger looked curious.

"My dad's not expecting me until tomorrow morning." Sky shrugged. "Wes and Jen are in town with Gemma – I figured I'd give them all a night to catch up."

"Sweet! Do you want to go catch a movie or something tonight?" Austin paused. "Z should still be around too, so we can ask her. No need for us to hang around here all night on a Friday." Austin looked like not having plans for Friday was a fairly repulsive thing. That sentiment wasn't surprising as all three of the Grayson siblings were active people.

At the thought of Syd, he felt a pang in his stomach. Austin obviously didn't know that Syd had gotten angry with him. Sky had tried to find her and talk before everyone left for the weekend, but she had taken off just before his shift ended. Now – the talk that he wanted to happen face to face would have to wait until Sunday night or Monday.

"Sure," Sky replied. He could finish packing later tonight or tomorrow morning before he left. His parents wanted to take everyone out to breakfast – so that meant he had to be at the house by nine at the latest. He picked up his wallet and keys from his nightstand, shoving them into his pocket.

"Sweet," Austin commented again. "Let's go find Z."

Fifteen minutes later, they had come to the conclusion that Z had either hidden herself somewhere on the grounds quite well or she wasn't at the academy. They had checked all the logical places – the command center, her room, the lounge, the library, even the infirmary. No one had seen her and no one had an inkling as to where she had gone. Sky didn't like the situation. Something was wrong…

"We can check the front desk's log-out," Austin suggested.

It was practical – they were still in the library which was close to the lobby. The receptionist was quite helpful – Z had gone to Turtle Cove for the weekend and her mother had picked her up at about four that afternoon.

"Why didn't she tell us?" Austin muttered.

Sky shook his head. "She's upset about something," he replied and then turned to face Austin. "Let's take a rain check on the movie – I've got some things I need to do."

Austin looked disgruntled. "I'll just be a loser and spend Friday night alone."

"That's great – thanks," Sky said absently as he headed for his car.

* * *

The sun had set. Z blinked and then squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to go back to sleep. She didn't want to think, didn't want to remember. Holding Olive to her chest, she glanced at the picture on her nightstand. It had been taken over the summer, before their leave time. Doctor Oliver had given them a rare day off and the four of them had traipsed down to the beach, dragging along the twins, Conner and his daughters for good measure.

Paris was in the background, sunbathing in a black bikini. Austin and Conner were beyond her and, in the picture, Conner had just hit a beach ball off his head. Sky was in the front, giving Syd a piggyback ride. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck, but her face appeared over his shoulder with a large grin. Z was sitting in a lawn chair next to them, wearing a yellow bathing suit top and feminine board shorts. Bridge was leaning over her, pressing a kiss to her cheek while still managing to look at the camera.

Madeline had taken the picture – and it was amazing that she had captured so much life in that single shot. A nine-year-old had taken one of the best pictures she had ever seen. If Z had been taking it, there would have been a finger in it or someone's head would have been missing… the snapshot would not be so clean and capturing them so perfectly.

The moment had been perfect – that whole afternoon had been so right.

She buried her face in the dinosaur's worn fur. He smelt like Bridge's cologne, since he had been in the boys' room since Ryan got rid of the demon. Bridge had given him to her before he left for the weekend, knowing she would want the comfort. In fact, he had probably purposely sprayed cologne on the stuffed animal.

There was a knock on her door.

"Come in!" she called, sitting up and running a hand through her tangled hair in a last minute effort to make it look halfway decent. She was on the losing side of that battle.

The door opened and her father came in, hovering in the door. He had changed out of his scrubs and was wearing khaki pants with a long-sleeved red shirt. His eyes met hers – their color more gray than blue.

"Dinner's ready," he said softly.

The smell of her mother's homemade tamales hit her nostrils. She hadn't even noticed the scent earlier – a mark of how distracted she was. Ordinarily, the idea of tamales made her mouth water and her stomach growl whether or not she was actually hungry. Tonight, she just felt like anything she tried to eat would come back up.

Cole let out a breath at her lack of reaction. Shutting the door, he came into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed, his concerned gaze meeting hers. "What's going on?" he asked softly. "Your mom said you were acting a little strange – and you sounded awful when you called me yesterday." There was no demand in his voice, just a plea to know what was going on with his only child.

Z sighed. "It's a long story."

"Tell me." Again, the request wasn't a demand.

"Kira and Paris are on an undercover mission at this…" She trailed off, not wanting to articulate what that place was – drug ring, whorehouse… "Place," she finished lamely.

"Place?" her father sounded skeptical.

"It's a—" She took a deep breath. "—whorehouse." Her father was frowning, but he was silent, meaning that she could continue. "I worked there when I was living on the streets." Her voice had gotten small and timid. "The only hope there is to be thrown out before you're killed or you die of an overdose." She paused. "I managed to avoid the drugs – and I was thrown out for being too frigid because I wouldn't do the drugs." A shudder tore through her body. "I was so glad… I'd have rather died in an alley than there."

Cole wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled close to his side. The simple gesture told her that she was still loved – no matter what her past. "Why are Paris and Kira undercover there?" he asked softly.

"So they can make a key arrest – start taking apart the hierarchy." Z paused, burying her face in her father's shoulder. "It was so scary being there," she whispered, a strangled sob escaping from her throat. "They hurt everyone… they—they…" She couldn't finish the thought, couldn't say it aloud. The sobs took over her speech and her father wrapped both arms around her, holding her close while she cried.

"I am so sorry you have to go through that," he whispered, one hand stroking her cheek as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Pain was evident in his eyes. If only… she wouldn't have had to go through any of that if she had grown up with her parents. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I will always protect you," he promised.

Z just snuggled back against him, wanting the love and protection her parents offered.

"I don't think I ever told you about your name," Cole said softly. "You're named after my mother." He paused. "Your mom thought it would be a nice tribute… but I've always known that you are so different and that's why I started calling you Z. You're unique… and you have no idea how much I love you."

"I think I have an idea," she murmured.

Cole gave her another squeezing hug and kissed her forehead again. Standing up, he smiled at her. "Do you want to come down for dinner?"

"I'm not hungry."

"We'll save some for you." He paused at the door. "I'll be back to check on you in a little while, all right?"

Z nodded, snuggling under the covers again. For some reason, she felt a lot better than she had. The memories still hurt and she couldn't talk about what had happened to her in that place – but her parents would love her no matter what. She squeezed Olive. Bridge had seen the scars – he hadn't commented on them, but there was no way he could have missed them, especially when he… a small ripple of pleasure shuddered through her. She had given up being able to get pleasure from sex until Bridge had shown her ecstasy. He worshipped her and, for him, sex was one of many expressions of how much he loved her.

There was another knock on her door.

"I'm not hungry – I'll get dinner later!" she called.

"Too bad," a voice called back.

Her mind froze for a minute. The voice was not one of her parents and they hadn't mentioned anyone coming over. People from their ranger team visited all the time – including Taylor – and their friends from work and social activities. However, the voice did sound awfully familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

Throwing off her covers and setting Olive on the pillow, she tried to smooth down her hair and padded to the door, glad she was wearing a bra with the tank top. She opened the door.

"Sky?"

He had a rare smile on his face, looking bemused at her reaction to him. He balanced a pizza box in one hand and a to-go drink holder with all four cup slots filled in the other. Z gaped at him for a minute. How had he found out she was here? Besides, he was supposed to be getting ready to go home in the morning.

"Don't look so shocked," he replied.

Her mind began to work. She moved her backpack from her desk, giving him a place to set down all the food and drinks. Sky set the pizza down on the desk and the drinks next to it. "I had to call Bridge to find out what you eat on your pizza – and then I got the run-down on all the food you like. He also completely freaked out so I have to call him and tell him that you're all right and—"

She didn't give him a chance to finish the thought. Z threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment, but his shoulders relaxed and he returned the gesture. "Thank you," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she released him.

Sky looked fairly shocked at her familial gesture. He shrugged. "You scared us. Me and Austin wanted to see if you wanted to join us for a movie – and we couldn't find you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be – you could obviously use some cheering up." He motioned to the food.

Z cracked open the pizza box, the heavenly smell of hot, melted cheese and tomato sauce drifting up. Pepperoni and mushrooms – her favorite… She glanced at the drinks.

"The cherry coke and root beer float are yours," Sky prompted. Z glanced at the labeled lids of the drinks, picking out hers. The Sprite and the iced tea had to be his.

She glanced back to Sky. He looked a little awkward, but pleased. "Thank you, Sky," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "Thank you so much."

* * *

Sky sat crossed-legged on one corner of Z's double bed. The pizza was gone – and Z was working on her root beer float. She had her cell phone pressed to one ear and was talking to Bridge. However, it was clear that Bridge's house was full of relatives as Z had to get him to repeat things and Sky had been able to hear Bridge yell for some quiet at one point in time. Bridge's Uncle Leo and Aunt Kendrix had four kids – one was older than Bridge and three were younger. Combined with his parents and baby brother, it made for some chaos. It didn't help that Leo and Kendrix had four girls…

Sky thought briefly to his own baby sister, just a few weeks old. Wes was an only child and all of Jen's relatives were in the future. His father was long estranged from his family and Taylor was an only child. Needless to say, he didn't have all the crazy cousins to deal with. Gemma was growing up in the lap of luxury – Sky thought to the cardboard space ship he had built in the second grade and how disappointed he had been that it didn't lift off. He only hoped that Gemma would be able to do things like that.

"Bridge – you need to get back," Z was saying. "Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. We can talk about it on Sunday." She paused, looking amused. "Say 'hi' to Mallory for me… All right… I love you too – bye." She closed the cell phone.

"Which one's Mallory?" Sky asked.

"His twelve-year-old cousin," Z replied. "Those girls are nineteen, sixteen, fourteen and twelve." She shook her head. "I don't know how any of them deal with it." Z poked her spoon around in the float. "I'm pretty sure she has a crush on you. Last time I saw her, I had to make it extremely clear that you are taken."

He nodded, forcing a smile. Syd… he still wasn't entirely sure what he had done wrong and he didn't want to apologize when he didn't know what he was apologizing for – and that would just make Syd angrier. Sure, there was her base accusation that he was cheating on her with Paris, but he had a feeling that was a cover-up for something else. Rather than admit she felt neglected or something along those lines, Syd had convinced herself that he was cheating on her and it was far easier to yell than talk.

Z was scrutinizing him. "What is going on between you and Syd?"

"I wish I knew," he replied with a sigh.

"Well, you wouldn't cheat on her. I think she knows that too on some level."

"I wouldn't dare – her father, uncle and Austin would have me drawn and quartered."

Z cracked a wry smile, licking the ice cream off her spoon and setting it on the pizza box. "She might have felt ignored," she mused as she picked up her soda. "I mean you've been so busy with the show and the RA stuff – you are the only one taking that job seriously."

"And Doctor O wants me to take over the combat training." He paused. "In addition to all my normal responsibilities."

The Yellow Ranger grimaced. "At least Conner hasn't gotten to you yet about joining the intramural basketball tournament."

Sky let out a long breath. "I don't know how to stop ignoring her if she's ignoring me." He shook his head. "I didn't know I was ignoring her – she normally demands attention if she's feeling left out or neglected."

"She's been busy too. Granted, not a busy as you," Z acquiesced. "But busy enough."

"How do you and Bridge do it?"

Z shrugged. "We tend to be a lot of the same places. I mean we both generally have to be at rehearsals the same amount of time – and we're both in charge of the cadet newspaper. And we make time for each other."

Sky shook his head. "That would be so much easier if I didn't have responsibilities for the damned play all day and night."

"Then quit – Paris can find someone else."

"That's easier said than done." He raked a hand through his hair. "I'm going to start having nightmares about the musical numbers."

"You know what you need to do?" Z said. "Send her some anonymous flowers with a blue ribbon on them – and then leave her little presents." She looked sympathetic. "Syd will get out of her funk and come around. She does love you, Sky."

"I hope so," he replied.

"Oh come on – you sound like you have some kind of monetary…" Z trailed off as he met her gaze and Sky knew he had just been read like a book. "You bought her an engagement ring? Oh my God! Where is it? Can I see it? When are you going to ask her?"

"In a vault in Silver Hills, no and not for a few years." He gave her a pleading look. "And can you please not spread this around?"

"I won't tell Syd," Z promised. Sky fought the urge to groan.

_ To Be Continued..._


	12. Shadows IV

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Twelve: Shadows IV**

Chaos had broken loose over the command center. Trent stood up from where he had been sitting and monitoring the energy readings in the city. Paris had burst into the room with Kira hot on her heels. Neither of them looked great given the disguises, but Paris looked ready to slaughter someone. Her artfully messed up hair had truly been messed up, there was a huge hole in her fishnets and her shoes were off. She clutched her right shoulder with her left hand and a bloodstained bandana was tied around her upper arm.

"That was not worth it!" Paris yelled.

Tommy gave her a mild look. "Did you make the arrest?"

"Of course!" The A-Squad Pink Ranger pulled a containment card out of the waistband of her shorts and threw it on the main console. The person trapped within was muttering squeaky obscenities and gesticulating wildly.

"What happened to you?"

"One of those apes tried to rape me!" Trent winced at her blunt language. "He didn't – and he now has a laser burn on his face!"

"Did you kill him?"

"Stunned him – do I look stupid?"

Tommy looked like he was torn between being horrified and amused. "Trent," he said. "Take Paris to the infirmary so Doctor Felix can have a look at her arm." Doctor Felix was one of the doctors on staff in the infirmary – he had feline ancestry and specialized in cuts, burns and broken bones. "Kira, you can debrief me." Kira did look in much better shape to give the debriefing than Paris did.

Trent went over to Paris, cupping her elbow. She jerked her arm away from him and stalked ahead of him for the infirmary. He sighed and followed. No one was in the halls late on Sunday night – the infirmary was as deserted as the halls. Doctor Felix was sitting behind the main desk when they walked in.

"Room two," he said immediately.

"Want me to come with you?" he asked Paris.

She gave him a neutral look, but her eyes looked weary. As much as she put on bravado, she wanted someone with her. Trent followed her into the room and helped her sit on the examining table. She turned towards him, her lips inches from his. "I was on the fringes of a knife fight," she murmured. "Can you believe it?"

"I can believe it." His lips brushed hers and she pressed them together, seeking harder, deeper kisses. Relief coursed through him – and he hadn't been aware of how worried he had been about her. She was here, alive and relatively unscathed.

"You owe me dinner," she whispered against his lips.

"I know. Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere, as long as dessert is you."

He didn't have time to reply to the innuendo as Doctor Felix picked that moment to come into the room with his cart of tricks. They were silent as the doctor put on some gloves and began to examine the bandana. Paris winced as he took the bandana off. The scab had obviously included the material, because fresh blood appeared on the cut.

"It's not bleeding much anymore," Felix said. "But I have a feeling this is going to need stitches – not many though."

Paris sucked in some air through her teeth as Felix began to clean the wound. Without all the dried blood around it, the cut looked much better. A few stitches that would dissolve in a few days and Doctor Felix said she could leave. Trent could see the amusement in the doctor's face – Paris had managed to end up in the infirmary more often than not lately.

They walked out to the hall in silence.

"I could use something extremely alcoholic," Paris said suddenly.

"Don't you have alcohol in your apartment?"

"Not anymore – regulations."

Trent shrugged as they turned down the hall that led to the officer apartments. "It's technically not regulation for people over twenty-one to have any."

"But I'm guessing you do."

"We're cops – everyone needs a stiff drink every so often."

He paused as they came to her door. Paris swiped her key card and the door slid open. "Want to come in for a drink or something? I might have some tea or soda."

"Sure."

Following Paris into the apartment, he was struck by the neatness of the place. The main room wasn't obsessive-compulsively neat, but everything was in its place and the room had a homey feel to it. The furniture was provided by SPD, but Paris had throw pillows, afghans and tablecloths covering up the drab surfaces. The counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment had pictures lining it.

She deposited the huge purse she had taken on the assignment inside the door and moved into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she frowned. "I've got lots of cookies and cranberry juice," she announced. "Help yourself – I'm going to go change clothes."

He watched her disappear into her bedroom, fully appreciating how she carried herself. She kept her back straight, chin up and proud. No wonder she intimidated most of the people she came across – she was confident. Trent moved to the counter, studying the pictures. Most of them were pictures of herself and siblings, her family, even a baby picture of the siblings. But it was the picture on the end that intrigued him. She was younger and standing outside someone's dorm room at the academy. She was wearing a black halter top and a black miniskirt – drawing attention to her long legs. A boy had his arm slung around her shoulders – he had brown hair that was artfully disheveled and a surprisingly warm smile.

"That's Aidan."

Trent turned to see Paris behind him. She had washed her face and pulled her hair into a ponytail, wearing gray pajama pants and a black tank top.

"Who was he?"

"My boyfriend." She paused, stepping forward and looking at the picture. "He was one of the ones expelled after my sixteenth birthday." She shook her head. "I should have been the one expelled, but Cruger chose him. He was top in our year… he works in his dad's auto shop now." Her eyes looked distant and sad.

"Did you love him?"

"He's a dear friend… but I didn't love him, not like he deserved." Her gaze went from the picture to him. "My Granpa Mitchell said that if you can imagine waking up next to someone every morning for the rest of your life, then that is the person you're destined to be with."

Trent's hand went to her waist. Paris smiled softly at him, her eyes full of an emotion that he couldn't quite identify. He was crazy for even considering this relationship, but there was something in those few kisses they had exchanged – pure fire – that made him think this was different, this might be the one.

"Let's just skip dinner," she whispered, closing the space between them and pressing her body to his. "And go straight to dessert." The last word was against his lips. Her hands were on his chest and she unzipped his uniform jacket, parting the fabric, her hands warm through the thin material of his t-shirt. This was moving too fast… but it was so right.

"Compromise," he whispered against her mouth. Her eyebrow raised, but she didn't say anything. "You let me give you a full body massage and then we'll talk about dessert."

"I'm not going to turn down a massage."

Hours later, thoroughly spent, he glanced down at Paris' sleeping face. Even in sleep, she appeared strong. Perhaps it was her strength that drew him to her. Even being as relatively famous as he was, there had always been easy women around who would do his every bidding in hopes of marrying his money. Paris would never do that – she would challenge him, force him to become better. He, in turn, would be there when she needed someone, when she needed to be taken care of, instead of taking care of those around her.

He couldn't see the future of this relationship, but he did want to take a trip to his mountain house. Long leisurely days and evenings spent making love – the sun set through the bedroom window giving the scene a romantic feel.

_Paris_, he thought. _You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to learning everything about you so you can be loved in the way you truly deserve to be._

* * *

Costume fittings were something that needed to happen at every rehearsal Sky decided. It gave him a chance to sit around in the auditorium while the costume crew pinned and measured the cast's clothing. He and Paris were sitting in the third row of the auditorium while Z was sitting in front of them, twisted around so she could talk. Trent and Ethan, the other members of the production crew, were in the booth, playing with lights.

"We should have a Halloween party," Paris said abruptly.

"Halloween party?" Sky echoed.

"Yeah – you know, a dance where everyone wears a costume and refreshments and stupid prizes and things – a masquerade ball."

Z nodded in agreement. "That could be fun." She playfully smacked Sky's arm. "I bet we could make it a hall event for the cadets and get away with it that way."

Sky rolled his eyes, not wanting to plan a Halloween dance in addition to all the rest of the work he had to do. "Didn't you used to plan the movie nights?" he asked Paris. "I wouldn't mind having one of those – it'd be less work."

"I never planned the movie nights," Paris sniffed. "I'm not that lame. I planned all the wild and crazy dances parties."

"When would we have it?" Z asked, obviously thoroughly committed to the idea of having this dance party.

Paris thought for a moment. "Well, the Saturday before Halloween would work out nicely. No one would get in trouble for stuff if we had it on Halloween." She sat up a little straighter in her chair. "And we could have a cake walk – I bet I could get my dad to donate some cakes and cookies and stuff."

"We'd need a time frame and we'd need fliers out within the week."

"Good point – let's say six to eleven and I can get Trent to make the fliers."

Trent – Sky didn't add anything, but it was obvious that there was more going on between Paris and Trent than either one of them wanted to articulate. Little gestures – touching hands, one-armed hugs, kisses on the cheek – that could all be considered harmless and the mark of good friends made him believe something more was there.

"What am I making?"

Trent sat down in the row behind Paris and Sky, closely followed by Ethan. "Fliers for the Halloween party," Paris told him.

"Oh," Trent replied, taking her clipboard from her. He found a relatively unused piece of paper and turned it to the back. Pulling a pen from behind his ear, he began to sketch out a design nodding as Z filled him in on the details.

"We're ready to go in the booth," Ethan told them. "All that's left is a sound check on the mikes and that shouldn't take long."

"As soon as the costume crew lets the leads go, we'll start," Paris said. "And we definitely have to start using the mikes because Violet is going to lose her voice if she keeps up with what she has been doing."

"Let's go shopping for costumes this weekend!" Z said, changing the subject. "My dad gave me some money so I can go get a nice costume."

"I know this great little hole-in-the-wall place downtown." Paris glanced at Sky. "Want to come with us?"

"No."

"Well – too bad! Until Syd pulls her head out of her butt, you're stuck with us."

"Lucky me."

* * *

The auditorium was quiet. Most of the cast and crew had departed after striking what needed to be and making sure that everything was locked. Between costume fittings, sound checks and a run-through of act one, Syd wanted to get back to her room and curl up in bed, but she couldn't, not until she had talked to Sky.

He was still in the auditorium, sitting at the piano that was pushed against the apron of the stage. The music that issued forth was slow and sad – the notes rising to the empty hall, singing to the inanimate objects that couldn't hear. This was not unusual – him staying here after everyone left and playing the piano. On more than one occasion, she had sat in the back and listened to him, enjoying the music.

God – she didn't want to have this conversation with him. The accusation of him screwing around with Paris had been ridiculous – Syd could now clearly see that Paris was not screwing around with Sky. She was screwing around with Trent. She was sorry for that, but it was not going to repair things. Their schedules and commitments had kept them apart to the point where their relationship felt strained. This hadn't been a problem in the past, but now… She thought of Bridge and Z, so confident in each other and their love, always finding time to cuddle or go for a walk. Where had that gone for her and Sky?

Taking a deep breath, she walked down the center aisle to the piano, pausing at the side of the instrument and looking down at him. He started and stopped playing.

"Syd, I—"

"No," she interrupted. "Let me." She let out a long breath. "I want to apologize for accusing you of cheating on me with Paris. I know that you wouldn't do that." Syd paused. "Then again, she's with Trent."

The relief in his blue-gray eyes was so evident that she felt her heart sink. He had thought that was the main reason for her anger – and had probably decided that if she discovered the accusation was false, things would be fine.

"But," she said, forcing herself to look at him and see the apprehension there. "I do think we should see other people for a little while."

"Why?"

Such a simple question – a plea, really, for knowledge. Syd reached out, her hand stroking the side of his face. "We don't go for walks or do any of the things we used to do together. We don't have time for each other."

"We can still do those things. We can go for a walk right now and—"

"Sky," she interrupted him, placing an index finger on his lips. "I think we need to be apart for a while just so we can learn to appreciate each other again."

The blank expression on his face was terrifying. When he spoke, his tone was clipped and mechanical. "I can't believe that you would ever doubt that I appreciate you, let alone love you." He shook his head. "You don't know me at all."

"Sky—"

"No," he said, anger in his tone. "Don't try to patronize me. If you don't know that I love you, then perhaps we shouldn't be together at all."

He stood up roughly from the piano, grabbing his sheet music, and stalked out of the auditorium, never once looking back at her. Syd sank down onto the piano bench, tears stinging her eyes. He had wanted to fix things – he had been willing to do whatever she thought he needed to in order for their relationship to be back to what it was. Of all his reactions to being apart for some time, she hadn't expected the anger, the betrayal.

_He loves me and I just pushed him away._

Tears slipped down her cheeks. "Sky," she whispered. There was no way that he would hear her and he was too hurt to consider reconciling now. She had just put another nail in the coffin of their love. "I love you."

A strangled sob escaped her throat. He had always been so gentle, so loving, while at the same time knowing what to do to make her scream with passion. He would run his fingers through her hair and tell her how beautiful she was. He had helped her get her auditions numbers prepared!

"Syd? What are you still doing here?"

With a gasp, she turned to see Z jumping lightly off the stage, still wearing her blacks from running act one. "It's over, Z," she sobbed. "And he's never coming back."

"Sky?"

She nodded. Something unknown flitted over Z's face. The Yellow Ranger shook her head, gazing at her roommate.

"Come on. I think you need some ice cream."

* * *

Paris was in an exceptionally good mood. Rehearsals were going well and they were sure to have an awesome show in time for opening night. And on top of that, there was now a Halloween party to look forward to. As much as she liked Christmas, Halloween had to be her second favorite holiday – just because it was a reason to dress up. That – and she was glad that the ice had been broken between her and Trent. He was a lot of things she had been looking for in a boyfriend – mature, independent, sense of humor, artist – the list could go on and on.

She hummed along with the radio as she opened her fridge, scrounging around for something that could pass for dinner. Unlike the dorms, the apartments did not come with an all hours of the day and night pass to the cafeteria. Meals there had to be paid for and she didn't feel like wasting the money when she could eat in her apartment. The contents of her fridge didn't extend beyond cranberry juice and her father's homemade cookies.

"Damn," she said aloud and glanced at the clock on the oven. It was shortly before six, meaning that the afternoon patrol shift was about to be relieved. Trent was out patrolling with Ethan – and he probably wouldn't mind picking up some Chinese.

"I love having a boyfriend," she muttered to herself, locating her cell phone and dialing Trent. He answered and agreed to her request. Pleased with the forthcoming food, Paris danced across the apartment to her bedroom to change out of her uniform. The uniforms were still extremely sexist – the higher-ranking women had skirts. She was willing to redesign the uniforms to something gender-neutral, but Doctor Oliver wasn't having any of it. He claimed they had bigger problems. He was going to have problems when she called up NOW.

"Party, play… sex." She shook her head. "That doesn't fit in the alliteration." She shrugged. "Oh well."

The door chimes to her apartment sounded. She knew it wasn't Trent, because his shift was just now ending and the lines at the restaurants would be atrocious. "Come in!" she called, moving out into the living. She was mildly surprised when Austin came in. Ordinarily, her and Austin got along really well and did have a special bond – but the expression on his face told her that he wasn't here to exchange pleasantries.

"What's wrong?"

"You're sleeping with Trent?"

She blinked, not sure how he found out about that. "Yeah," she replied slowly, narrowing her eyes. "And since my boyfriends aren't your business and since you've never cared about them before, I think this conversation is over."

"He's fifteen years older than you."

"So?" Her good mood was vanishing quickly.

"He's nearly our parents' age."

"And your point is?"

"How can you expect to have a normal relationship with him?"

Paris took a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to articulate her response. "Austin," she said slowly, as if she were speaking to a child. "You don't understand. When I'm with Trent, I'm not a freak or a rebel or any of the things that people label me as. I'm just Paris – myself, the good with the bad." She shook her head. "Can you understand that?"

The reasoning hadn't gotten through the Austin – that much was obvious. He didn't want to see her side – he just saw her dating an older man for no reason. Austin just shook his head and left the apartment. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

Trent came in a few minutes later with the food. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Austin is being an idiotic ape," she replied. "What kind of food did you bring?"

_ To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** I just want to say that Doctor Felix (from _Badge)_ entertains me to no end! He should go to London and get on the cast of CATS. At any rate, thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this piece. It's great to see people coming back every chapter with comments and such. So, to everyone who reviewed last chapter (or have reviewed since the last update) - _alexis, BloomingViolets, Funky In Fishnet, garnetred, Giannola, Moi, the real vampire and Trey Miller_ - thank you so much! This thing wouldn't be going on without you!

With that said, I'm also up for some awards at Guardians of the Earth (I don't know how or why, but it makes me smile!) So, when the voting polls are open (in about two weeks I do believe), head over and vote!


	13. Masquerade I

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Thirteen: Masquerade I**

Z glanced to Paris. The A-Squad Pink Ranger was humming to herself as she held a flier for the Halloween party to the bulletin board on the girls' floor and then savagely stapled the thin paper in place. She stepped back to admire her handy work. Z had to admit – Trent had done a great last-minute job with the posters. And between her, Sky and Bridge – and Paris throwing in some suggestions – the party was shaping up to be pretty good.

Paris' show of stapling the fliers was becoming entertaining. She would hold them up for a minute and then bang the stapler in the middle. If the staple didn't go through completely the first time, she would bang the stapler against the poster several times in a row. The fliers always stuck after that routine. Z shook her head and taped a flier up by the end of the hall. Most of the female cadets passed by here on their way to their quarters.

"Excuse me?"

Z turned to see a tall, brown-haired cadet standing near them. His uniform indicated that he was in his last year of training – meaning he was probably eighteen or so. Paris turned as well, the stapler pointed ominously at the cadet. He swallowed, staring at the potential weapon that Paris wielded. All the cadets knew who the rangers were – and knew not to piss them off. He looked downright terrified of Paris.

"I—I'm looking for Lieutenant Grayson."

"You're looking at her," Paris said. She crunched the stapler together a few times. The poor kid looked like he wanted to run for the hills.

"No, I mean… Sydney."

"Oh her." Paris and the stapler relaxed. "Who are you?"

"I'm Cadet Michael Lynch, ma'am."

"Aidan's younger brother?" Paris looked incredulous.

"Yes, ma'am."

Paris shook her head. "The good looks don't run in that family." Z frowned at her. Paris was normally off her rocker about a mile and a half, but this was taking the cake. "Look, Cadet Lynch, we don't know where Syd is, but if you find her, you can tell her that I want to speak to her about her bad relationship judgment."

Cadet Lynch pretty much fled after that. Z fought the urge to snicker.

"Do you make it your goal in life to scare those kids?"

Paris shrugged. "There's a reason I don't run their training seminars." She glanced down the hall to where the cadet had fled. "Do I know him?"

"Now you do," Z replied, picking up the handful of fliers. She wasn't sure what the purpose of this interrogation was – or how this cadet had ended up in Syd's confidence. Z had never seen him before and Syd hadn't mentioned him. Now that Syd and Sky were officially broken up… but why would Syd go out with a younger man? Z shook her head. Since going home, she had begun to feel better about her past in general. Of course, it helped to have the unconditional love of her parents and Bridge.

"I don't like it," Paris said.

"You said you knew his older brother," Z pointed out.

"I dated his older brother – but that amounts to nothing where boys are concerned."

"Why do I have the feeling I'm about to be dragged into something that is going to be a bad re-run of a _Scooby Doo_ cartoon?"

"I have no idea since most of my escapades end up like the _Keystone Cops._"

"Keystone Cops?"

"It's this old TV show that—" Paris paused. "Never mind. Let's go find one of the boys and see what they know about this Michael Lynch character."

Since they needed to put fliers on the boys' floor anyways, Z trooped after Paris as they climbed up the stairs and paused at the bulletin board. The offending wall decoration was on the wall across from the rooms that the three B-Squad males had. The door to Bridge and Sky's room was open. Z poked her head in. Sky was hunched over his laptop, probably doing something work related. Bridge was messing with a circuit board from his computer. Both looked up at her appearance.

"Do you guys know Michael Lynch?" Paris asked, pushing past her into the room.

"He's an A-level cadet," Bridge offered, looking confused.

"And he's in room 311," Sky added. "I think Sharpton's his roommate."

"Yeah – that's nice," Paris said. "But I need details on this boy."

Bridge glanced at Z, clearly asking why either of them would need details on a seemingly random cadet. However, the Green Ranger obviously had no answers other than his rudimentary knowledge of the male that lived on his floor. All three of them turned to Sky – the only one on the B-Squad to actually get to know all the cadets on the floor and made an effort to greet and interact with all of them.

Sky looked disgruntled at being put on the spot. "What do you want to know?"

"Social security number, FBI background check – and I think we should dust his room and run his fingerprints just to be on the safe side."

The Blue Ranger ignored that. "He's from Mariner Bay," Sky said. "His parents run the local auto shop. He had a four point GPA in high school and he was captain of JV basketball and soccer teams – he also played tennis, was on the swim team and did track."

"Jeez," Z muttered. "Is he on steroids?"

"What does he do in his free time?" Paris asked.

"Goes to a lot of concerts. He's a pretty big Bronley Hale fan."

Z frowned. This was starting to make sense. This Michael character hailed from Mariner Bay – the Grayson siblings' hometown. He also was a fan of a singer that Syd loved. And if he was remotely attractive – which he was – then Z could see where this was adding up. Sky still looked puzzled and like he had no clue why they were interrogating him about a cadet.

"I see," Paris said in an even tone of a voice. "Specializations?"

"Mechanics," Sky replied. "He's helped tune-up the vehicles – I think he said something about going into zord maintenance when he graduates." He frowned. "Why do you need to know all about this guy?"

However, it wasn't Paris who responded to that question. Z stood up from where she had perched on the edge of Bridge's bed. "Because your entire future happiness is dependent upon it!" Receiving puzzled stares from Paris and Bridge, Z sat back down, momentarily forgetting that she was the only person that knew about the engagement ring that Sky had bought for Syd.

"Wait," Sky said, putting two and two together. "Syd's dating this guy?"

"He asked after her," Paris replied. "I have a feeling that she might want to start something with him." She paused. "However, I am going to find her and beat some sense into her stupid blonde little head."

No one bothered to point out that Paris was also blonde as she strode from the room and disappeared down the hall towards the girls' floor.

Sky moved his computer from his lap and sat back against his bed, looking completely and utterly shocked and defeated. He shook his head, obviously having trouble understanding why Syd would start to date someone else so soon after they had broken up. Z knew that Syd was pretty broken up over it and saw it as her fault, but she wasn't going to make the first move towards reconciling. She wanted Sky to do that.

The Blue Ranger stood up roughly. "I'm going to be for a walk," he said hoarsely. "I'll be back in a little bit."

"Between him having meltdowns and Paris terrorizing Syd – I get the feeling that nothing is going to be harmonious around here," Z muttered.

* * *

The mail room was one of the many places in the SPD Academy that people tended to congregate and gossip. The people that lived in the building – officers and cadets – had official post office boxes here, while other personnel could apply for a box until the mail staff ran out of boxes to give out. The different departments also had an inter-office mail system and incoming mail was divided by department here as well. Syd had helped in the mail room during her first year as a cadet and remembered the departments – forensics, IT, homicide, traffic, security, residential life, ad nauseam. 

Syd pulled her key card from her pocket and pushed it into the key slot in her mail box. The green light came on and she opened the small door. The contents of her mail box was not impressive – her cell phone bill, a letter from her grandfather and her latest fashion magazine. She shut the door, glancing at the items and deciding to open the letter first. Her grandfather's letters were usually entertaining and, through his connections at Lightspeed, he managed to get them coupons for free meals at ritzy restaurants.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite dingbat."

She turned to see Paris walking into the mail room. Syd glared at her – Paris had an entire repertoire of annoying names she called her. Her sister ignored the glare and opened her own mail box, pulling out the contents. She tucked a magazine and some envelopes under her arm, ripping one open.

"What'd you get?" Syd asked.

Paris pulled tickets out the envelope. "Kira hooked me up with tickets to the Bronley Hale concert in December – he's going to be in LA." She shrugged. "She still has some connections in the industry."

"How many tickets did you get?"

"Three." Paris glanced at them. "Third row."

"Who's going with you?"

She shrugged. "I haven't decided yet."

Syd gaped at her. She _loved_ Bronley Hale. How could her own sister not have already included her in the people she was taking to the concert? In fact, Paris hadn't even mentioned asking Kira to get her tickets to the show. Both of them grew up listening to Kira's stuff… Syd took a deep breath. Paris was ornery about a lot of things.

"Have you thought about it?"

"Yeah – I thought I might ask Sky. You know, he might want to get out and go to something like this."

"Sky?" Syd sputtered. "But he doesn't even like Bronley Hale!"

"Lots of people who go to concerts aren't rabid fans of the band playing." Paris started for the mail room door, but turned around. Syd couldn't believe that Paris was going to ask Sky to go with her to a concert that he wouldn't even like. Besides – had she missed the fact that she and Sky had separated? Paris turned back around. "Which reminds me – Kira got this awesome DJ friend of hers for the Halloween dance. You are planning on coming, right?"

"Of course," Syd grumbled.

"With the group?"

"No – I've got a date for it."

"Really? I'm guessing it's not Sky."

"No," Syd growled, not wanting to be in this interrogation. "His name is Michael – he's a cadet, graduating in the spring."

"Oh – so you're going with this guy because he's available?"

Syd let out a frustrated shriek and stalked out of the mail room. No one was going to understand her decisions – least of all Paris.

* * *

Bridge was pouring over the phonebook when Trent entered the command center with the operating reports that they needed to file. The other Green Ranger set down the data pads and gave him a curious look. 

"What's with the phonebook?"

"I'm looking up occult groups."

"Why?" Trent asked slowly. "And before you answer, you could do that a lot faster on the database than through the phonebook."

"I thought of something," Bridge replied. "The demon that Ryan banished from our room said a lot of stuff about me that no one beyond me and my adopted parents should know. So I got to thinking."

"How did you end up with the occult?" Trent paused. "Never mind. That's obvious."

"Well," he said slowly. "It's not even that so much." Bridge glanced at Trent. He hadn't told anyone about this particular train of thought and where it was going. He had an idea… But Trent might actually know. "What kind of people can summon demons?"

"All kinds," Trent replied. "Guardians are the ones that I've seen do it most often, but I'd imagine almost anyone who dabbles in the occult with enough power." He shrugged. "I wouldn't really recommend it, because sometimes you can get stuck with a demon."

Somehow, Bridge was not surprised that Trent knew all this, although he didn't have a clue as to what most of the things he just mentioned were. "What's a guardian?" he asked.

"Keepers of the gates of hell," Trent replied nonchalantly, handing him two of the data pads. "Although, they tend to keep demons out, not bring them in." He shrugged again. "It all depends on the person."

"Can someone dabbling in the, like, occult or paranormal summon a demon?"

"I'd imagine so."

"And does the demon have to do everything they say."

"Typically."

Bridge nodded. "I think my adopted mother summoned the demon and then told it to kill me in my sleep."

Trent dropped a data pad. The resounding echo of metal hitting the floor reverberated throughout the empty command center. The other Green Ranger's eyes were wide that Bridge would even make a suggestion like that. Almost as quickly as he lost his composure, he gained it again, leaning to pick up the data pad.

"If you think she's sending demons after you, then I would suggest calling Ryan and getting him up here to ward your room and hand out protection amulets and things." He paused. "I hear dragon's blood works well for protection."

Bridge nodded, digesting the information. He knew that his adopted mother had been a little disturbed, but, the more he thought about this theory, the more he thought he was right.

"You know what," Trent continued. "I actually have some dragon's blood in my apartment – and I've got an acquaintance who claims to be a guardian. She would know about… stuff like this."

"Can we find out for sure?"

"Well, we'd have to summon the demon – or get someone we trust to summon the demon and the demon would have to spill the information." Trent paused again. "And then we'd have to banish the demon."

"How do you summon a demon?" Bridge knew he sounded eager, but if they could find out for sure, then surely they could stop anything else his adopted mother might have planned.

"Wait a minute," Trent replied. "Neither one of us could do it without something going wrong. I'll call my people and you call Ryan and we'll see what we come up with."

* * *

"So yeah," Z said, bouncing the basketball a few times before making her shot. The ball sailed smoothly through the hoop. She jogged after the ball and passed it to Sky. He caught it and glanced at her. "Apparently Syd is going to the Halloween dance with this cadet – and she's not speaking to Paris because Paris isn't taking her to the Bronley Hale concert she got free tickets to." 

"She's not going to not take Syd," Sky replied.

They were in the basketball court across the street from the academy. It was evening and the lot was deserted. He bounced the ball a few times. Conner's basketball intramurals were in December – and he had managed to talk the B-Squad males into entering. The girls hadn't had an interest, but Z had volunteered to practice with them.

"You know that and I know that," Z said. "But she doesn't know that."

Sky shook his head and took his shot. The ball clanked off the rim, bouncing anywhere but through the net. He had never been very good at any sport except track – but that was because it didn't require any sort of weird hand-eye coordination to run. One would assume that because he had so much combat training, stuff like basketball would be a cinch. But it wasn't.

"I've already been informed that, if Syd asks me about the concert, I'm supposed to say that I'm going." He watched as Z retrieved the ball. "I don't even like that kind of music."

"That's what Syd told her."

He let out a long breath. He felt tired and drained lately. Never before he had slept in on the weekends or hit the snooze button on his alarm clock, but now he did. Bridge hadn't commented on it, but that was because he still beat his best friend up. The Green Ranger had never had a desire to get out of bed once he got there.

Z passed him the ball. He caught it, dribbling it in place. "I don't know what to do anymore," he said. "I don't know what went wrong."

"Neither do any of the rest of us." The Yellow Ranger ran up to him and grabbed the ball. She dribbled and made an easy shot.

"Oliver is going to have us in his office before too much longer." Sky wasn't sure how they had ended up so dysfunctional in the past few weeks. Austin was fuming about Paris and her choice for a current boyfriend. Syd was hardly speaking to him and avoiding the twins like the plague. Z and Bridge seemed to be along for the ride – although the pair of them was enjoying all the drama entirely too much.

"I doubt it. If anything, he's going to have Bridge in the counselor's office because he's had some pretty morbid theories surrounding that demon lately."

"Come on, Oliver's the one that got that woman to stop calling Bridge."

"He's a bureaucrat – doesn't mean anything."

Sky rolled his eyes, not saying anything. He felt hollow – like something had carved out something essential and left the husk. The Halloween party… there was no viable reason why he had volunteered to help out. Perhaps it was because the party was something that Syd would have liked and been enthusiastic about. Five people on the same squad and they managed to not speak to each other. How was that possible?

"Bridge and I are going to get costumes this weekend."

"What happened to Paris?"

"She's special-ordering hers on-line."

"And I'm guessing that I'm driving?"

"There's this place downtown that's called Queen Mab's Wardrobe. Paris says you can get period pieces and really cool costumes there." Z was bouncing the ball, giving him a searching look. "You look ill," she commented.

Not wanting to mention that he felt ill, Sky remained silent. All he really wanted to do was go to bed and wake up, realizing that this was nightmare. He did not want to go costume shopping this weekend – he didn't even want to go to the party he had helped plan. But he knew he was going to end up taking Bridge and Z where they wanted to go. He had never denied Bridge anything in the tenure of their friendship – and Z was his girlfriend and a sister to Sky.

"I'm not going to the party," he replied finally.

"Yes, you are," Z retorted, taking another shot. "Besides Bridge and I have this whole thing planned. We're—"

"No!" he interrupted vehemently. "If you guys have some bad plan to get me and Syd back together, just don't do it. You'll only make things worse."

"We're not going to do anything!" she protested.

"Last time you guys said that it was on my birthday and you managed to get the whole goddamn academy involved."

Z chose to ignore that comment. "You still have to come to the party – you have to help chaperone all the cadets."

"No way." He got a scathing glance in return before Z passed him the ball. He caught it and took his shot. This time, the ball sailed through the net without even touching the rim. He knew he was going to end up going to the party and he was probably going to regret it.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! The response from last chapter blew me away. I was like - what happened? You all came out of the woodworks and it was AWESOME! Keep up the great feedback! I've also come to the conclusion that these stories get completed for two reasons, I write constantly anyways and my awesome reviewers! (Exclamation points!) And now that there's only one episode left of SPD... it's kind of sad. I cried when Dino Thunder ended and was pretty sure I wasn't going to like SPD... that's what I get for thinking when I'm not used to it. So once SPD ends (on Saturday, because I don't have Toon Disney and have to wait), I think I'm going to cry all over again... 

Okay, that got a little random and off topic but - THANKS FOR REVIEWING AND READING!


	14. Masquerade II

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Fourteen: Masquerade II**

The costume shop was tucked away in a corner of downtown. This section held most of the mom and pop specialty stores. The comic book shop he had frequented as a kid was near here somewhere… Due to the restricted parking, he had parked a few blocks away and the three of them walked over here.

Sky frowned, looking at the sign to the store. This looked like a hippie shop – and he was amazed not to see people smoking pot outside. Paris would recommend a place like this. He was about to issue some protestations, but Bridge and Z had already gone into the store, leaving him standing on the sidewalk. Letting out a long breath, he pushed the door open, entering the store and was mildly surprised at what he found.

The place was neat, crowded, but neat. Bright, incandescent lights illuminated the interior, making the shop appear homey and cozy. A scented candle was burning on a shelf above the register. The tangy smell of citrus invaded his nostrils. Huh – first impressions of this place were misleading.

"This is the one I'm working on?"

Sky turned towards the voice. An older woman – perhaps forty or fifty – with jet black hair and electric yellow fingernails was scrutinizing him. Z was standing with her, nodding as the woman stared at him. "That's him," Z replied.

"I'm Rain," the woman replied. "Owner of this little shop." She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. "You're Eric Myers' boy, aren't you?"

"Yeah – how did you know?"

"My husband works for the Newtech PD – homicide." She waved away the question with a genuine smile. "That would make you Sky. Eric always speaks highly of you."

A pink flush rose in his cheeks at her compliment. She looked between the three of them, nodding to herself.

"Now – you three have a Halloween party?" Rain clarified.

Z answered in the affirmative and Rain shooed her and Bridge off to browse through the racks of costumes and other paraphernalia she had in the store. Once they were laughing and comparing costumes, Rain focused in on him.

"You are going to need something special," she mused.

Sky inwardly began to panic, wondering what Z had told Rain before he had come into the shop. This was not going to be good. He had called Wes a couple of days ago to check up on Jen and Gemma. Both were doing well. He had mentioned the upcoming party and Wes had made an offhand comment giving him permission to use his credit card to get a costume. But if Rain wanted to special-make him something, then the costume was sure to cost much more than he had planned on spending – and he really didn't want Wes taking his head off for this.

"Renaissance," Rain said with a definitive nod of her head.

"What?" He was confused.

"You'll see," she replied, leading him to a different section of the store from where Bridge and Z were. He was faintly surprised to see an entire collection of Renaissance clothing – from nobility all the way down to the peasants and everything in between. This place had to be packed when the Renaissance Faire came to Newtech each November. She asked his clothing sizes and he responded, watching as she select an off-white peasant shirt, vest, belt, hat, boots and, to his horror, crushed velvet tights.

With an order to try it on, he was pushed into a changing room. Taking a deep breath, he told himself that this wasn't a big deal – his ranger form was nothing more than spandex. This wasn't anything that national news coverage hadn't seen. "We want to see!" Z called into the changing room. Sky inwardly groaned, changed into the costume and took a look at himself in the mirror. Not too bad… he could live with it. The vest, hat and tights were dark blue – complimenting the rest of the earth tones.

"That is perfect," Z declared as he stepped out of the dressing room.

"Perfect for what?" he asked suspiciously.

"The party," she replied a little too quickly.

"No one will be able to resist you!" Rain said. She moved to help Z select something from a rack of gauzy fairy-like dresses. He went back into the dressing room to change into his normal clothes. Glancing at the price tags, he blanched. Wes would kill him if he put this on his credit card. But then again… something told him that Wes wouldn't care because he had actually made a comment about the lack of use said credit card was getting.

Putting the various costume pieces over his arm, he came into the main store just in time to see Rain putting a gauzy yellow fairy dress with matching wings into a dry-cleaning bag for Z. The Yellow Ranger pulled a wad of cash from her purse, counting out the correct change for the purchase. Sky supposed that was the most efficient thing to do – but he wouldn't imagine Wes handing out cash. He would hand out a money order or transfer the money into someone's bank account. Bridge was already standing around with a bag.

He put the costume on the counter and Rain began to ring it up, folding the clothes and putting them into proper packing. He let out a long breath.

"You don't want to put that much on the credit card," Bridge said.

"No," he agreed.

Z snorted. "Wes is a billionaire," she said. "Billionaire! He's not going to miss it."

"I don't know—"

"Sky," Bridge interrupted. "Just pull out the credit card, close your eyes and pay for it."

Nothing like peer pressure. A few minutes later, the three of them were walking back towards his car, laden with shopping bags. He wasn't sure what Z expected him to accomplish by walking around in tights for an evening, but it was obviously something.

* * *

"I just want to know why you care so much about getting Syd and Sky back together."

Z rolled her eyes at Bridge, brushing some of the wrinkles out of her new costume and hanging it in her closet. Syd had vacated the premises – Z wasn't sure if the Pink Ranger was just avoiding them or if she truly did have other things to be doing. Bridge was lying on his stomach on her bed, his chin propped up on her spare blanket as he watched her put away the dress and wings.

"I mean, sure, they're our friends and stuff," Bridge continued. "But this whole thing boils down to Syd – and I don't think she wants a reconciliation shoved down her throat." He paused. "And it might backfire – they're both really slow to change."

He was rambling. Z knew the reason – he was trying to make sense of the plan that was slowly coming together after the advent of Cadet Lynch. However, he didn't know what she did about Sky and the depth of the Blue Ranger's feelings. She sighed – she missed having Inkwell, her kitten, here. He was at home in Turtle Cove – a combination of Syd's whining about black cat fur everywhere and Doctor Oliver blandly reminding them about the no pet rule caused that.

Z sat down on her bed next to Bridge. He sat up, giving her an intense gaze. He needed to be in the know too. "You have to promise not to tell anyone about this."

"Did you promise not to tell anyone?"

"No – I promised not to tell Syd." Z gave him a mock severe glance. "But I'm making you promise not to tell anyone else."

"Z, what's going on?"

No point in delaying the inevitable. "Sky bought an engagement ring for Syd."

"What?"

She laid a finger on his lips. "He's not going to ask her for a few years, but he's bought the ring all the same. It's in a vault in Silver Hills."

Bridge kissed her fingertips before threading his fingers through hers. "All right," he started. "All the obvious objections aside, why did he keep it from us?"

"Probably because it'd get back to Syd."

"You have a point there." He frowned. "If he cares enough about her to buy an engagement ring that won't be used for years, then she's just being crazy." He groaned and flopped back on her bed, dramatically. "It'll never work – breaking her up with that Lynch creep. It won't help."

"Why won't it help?"

"Because she'll know we're behind it – and then she'll just get mad at all of us for trying to rearrange her life without her permission."

Z stretched out beside him, one arm over his chest, her chin propped on his shoulder. "Well," she replied. "We just have to execute the plan with more finesse."

"Finesse?" Bridge's arms came around her, pulling her so that she was lying mostly on his chest. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his quickening heartbeat – the only indication that their position was affecting him.

"Yeah – if we concentrate on separating her and Lynch for the night and come up with situations where she would be forced to confront Sky…" She trailed off, letting Bridge fill in the rest however he wanted.

"That explains the costume," he mumbled. He shook his head. "I'm still not sure that this is a good idea."

"Come on," Z said, propping herself up so she could see his face. "We're not talking about some fleeting romance here – those two are so retarded for each other, it's not even funny. It's just that right now the retarded-ness has taken over."

Bridge snickered. "You're starting to sound like me."

Z gave him a bored look. "Just don't think about Syd for a minute – think about Sky. He's your best friend – you want to let his future fiancée throw him away like yesterday's garbage! We are talking about the end of life as we know it!"

"Subtlety never was one of your strong points."

Giving him a haughty glance, she lifted herself off of him and scooted to the far corner of her bed, wrapping her arms around her knees. Was she the only one destined to understand the situation and the need for action? Bridge understood, sure, but he also thought the plan was a really bad idea. He was being such a—_boy_. How many times had Paris told her that boys were stupid and had to have things beaten into their skulls? Too many…

She felt Bridge move closer to her. "Come on, Z," he pleaded. "Don't be mad. I'll help with this plan." He paused. "What do you need me to do?"

Z let out a long breath, realizing that she was pushing Bridge away. He didn't have to like the plan or always agree with her, that was just the nature of relationships. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him hold her for a few minutes. He pulled away from her and stood up, taking her hand.

"Come on," he said, tugging at their joined hands.

"What?" she asked. He didn't reply, just led her out of her room and upstairs into his room. Once there, he opened the top drawer to his dresser and began rummaging around in it. "Bridge, what are you—" But she was cut off when he produced a jewelry box from underneath his socks and pajamas. He held it out to her, an unreadable expression on his face.

Frowning, she took the box and lifted the lid. Inside was a necklace – an almost exact replica of the Z necklace she had lost so many years ago. "How?" she whispered.

"Your mom," he replied. "Do you like it?"

She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his – giving him a hard, passionate kiss and shivering when he responded and kissed her back. As far as she was concerned, this could last forever.

"Sorry to interrupt, but you guys might want to take that elsewhere."

They sprang apart to see Sky coming out of the bathroom, dressed in sweatpants and a blue t-shirt with a towel around his neck. How could both of them have missed that someone was in the shower? The Blue Ranger moved past them to his side of the room.

Z exchanged a glance with Bridge and they left the room. That hadn't been the worst thing Sky had walked in on them doing, definitely not the worst thing…

* * *

Bridge hummed to himself as he checked his mail box the next day. Sliding his key card into the correct slot, he pulled open the door and extracted his mail. Most of it was junk – except for the card from his Aunt Kendrix and his cell phone bill. He pulled those out and glanced at the rest of the papers. Some were fliers for various events that got stuffed in everyone's mail box. There was also a plain white envelope with 'Lieutenant Corbett' written simply across it. The handwriting was Trent's. Heart pounding, he ripped open into the envelope.

The post-it note on the front page read, _Want me to put in an anonymous tip?_

The sheet on top was a piece of paper with Trent summarizing his findings and the photocopied sheets were the evidence he had found.

Bridge had talked to Ryan a few days ago and he did not have much more information or insight on the newest idea regarding the demon. However, the demon anthropologist had recommended some books on drawing wards and making protection amulets – Trent's suggestion of dragon's blood had turned out to be correct. But, the niggling at the back of his mind had died down – his changed phone number prevented unwanted calls and no more demons had come around to attack him. (That – and he had gotten a lot better at perceiving unnatural presences around him.)

He separated a piece of paper from the others – it was a photocopy of a person Bridge vaguely recognize as one of his adopted mother's friends. When she had her friends over to play cards and have cocktails, she encouraged him to stay away and he was more than happy to comply. Those women looking curiously at the kid wearing leather gloves – pity in their eyes for his adopted parents and curiosity towards him.

Trent had written on the edge of the paper – _guardian, registered at the last major conference, apparently extremely capable of summoning powerful demons._

More surveillance pictures followed and registration forms for various conferences. Trent had done his research well – including affidavits from the bartenders of a bar that catered to the occult community in LA. The barkeep claimed hearing their guardian and Powell talk about summoning a demon.

He should have been horrified to find all this out – but, now that he knew, all the niggling threads about his childhood not being quite right had stopped niggling because all the pieces fell into place. Instead of feeling panicked or alarmed, he felt much calmer than he had. They didn't miss him – he had known that way back in his first year at the SPD Academy. They were afraid of him and, being sick when he was younger, she was trying to rid herself of a freak child and make it look like an accident. Telling himself that they were hurt had been a defense… it still hurt to have this confirmed, but – was it so bad?

_Life is not fair or unfair_, his mother was fond of telling him. _It merely is. It is up to each of us to be fair or unfair._

Justice would be served – he had been a ranger and a cop long enough to appreciate that. Sending a demon with intent to kill was a containment card kind of offense – and conspiracy to murder was just as bad. He pulled his morpher from his belt and flipped it open.

"Corbett to Fernandez," he said.

"I hear you, Bridge. What's up?" Trent asked.

"Can you put in that anonymous tip?"

"On it – there'll be a squad out there in an hour."

* * *

Sky tried to concentrate on the book he was reading, but couldn't focus. Night had fallen outside and their room was dimly lit by the lamps. Bridge was lying on his stomach on his bed, his reading glasses slipping off his nose as he studied the circuit board and consulted a book, both items laying his pillow. Sky shook his head and leaned against the headboard of his bed, putting his book on his nightstand. He then pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his hands, curling his fingers inside his palms for warmth. The heater in their room was going full blast – and Bridge was probably hot, but…

He normally felt overly cold during cooler weather – he had figured out early on that what he considered cold was comfortable for most people. Bridge started humming to himself.

"What are you so happy about?" Sky asked.

Bridge looked up from the circuit board and book and sat up. He pulled off his reading glasses – that was unexpected. The gesture meant he was going to settle in for a conversation about something. "Trent figured out who sent the demon."

The Blue Ranger had to fight from gaping at him. That entire event had caused large amounts of panic and chaos and Bridge was just now relating that he had figured out who sent the demon? "What?" Sky sputtered. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

That made his roommate pause. "I guess because it's all taken care of." He thought for a minute. "It's not like we've had repeat demon attacks."

Sky felt like he should have been irritated with Bridge, but he couldn't muster the energy to even feel a slight annoyance. He had been wrung out – he knew that Bridge and Z were plotting something for the Halloween dance. Between the blackmail pictures that he still hadn't actually seen, increasing numbers of rehearsals, the fact that he and Syd weren't together let alone even speaking… he didn't have the heart to get mad at Bridge for something that didn't make a difference, especially if the whole situation had been resolved.

"True," he conceded. "Look," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry about the whole thing with your adopted family. I don't have any right to tell you what to do."

"I know," Bridge replied in answer to his first statement. "But, it's a good thing you did intervene because she's the one that indirectly sent the demon."

"You're kidding me!"

"Nope. She apparently has these guardian friends. They picked a really powerful demon – what they didn't know is that rangers have sent that particular demon back to the grave twice before."

"Damn." He glanced at Bridge. "You seem relatively calm about all this."

"What's the point in panicking?" He shrugged. "Trent sent out a squad and picked up both of them – intent to kill and conspiracy to murder is more than enough to keep their petty fears out of my hair."

Sky shook his head. He would never understand how Bridge managed to remain so calm in situations where anyone else would be flipping out. Situations always fell out that way – the rest of the B-Squad would be in chaos and Bridge would step in with a solution, stopping the chaos before anyone else knew what had happened. Things were never dull – he would have used a lot of other words to describe their lives, but dull wasn't one of them.

"How are you holding up?" Bridge asked him, nodding at the fact that his hands were still curled inside his sweatshirt sleeves.

"I'm managing," he replied and then paused. "I'm not too crazy about the cold weather."

"You've never been too crazy about cold weather. Everyone else runs outside to have a snowball fight and you hide by a space heater."

Reluctantly, Sky smiled. Bridge gave him a concerned look.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," although the statement was directly contradicted by a violent shiver. Bridge gave him a look that said, _yeah right_, but didn't say anything. He shook his head while moving the circuit board and book from his bed, placing his glasses on his nightstand. Soon enough, they had said their goodnights and Sky fell into a dreamless sleep.

When he next woke, his alarm was going off. His whole body felt sore, like he had been put through an extra-hard simulator program. Shivering, he pulled his comforter closer around him and did something he hadn't done in years – hit the snooze button on his alarm. His throat was dry and his head throbbed uncomfortably.

"Sky?"

Forcing himself to roll over and open his eyes, he saw Bridge standing next to his bed, looking worried. Not once in their tenure as roommates had Sky not gotten up the moment his alarm went off. "Are you all right?"

He felt Bridge place a hand on his forehead.

"You're running a temperature," Bridge said. "I'll let Doctor Oliver know that you won't be on duty today."

For once, Sky felt too weak to argue with him.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, I originally had a really long and really retarded author's note here, but it got expunged. I am not going to subject my WONDERFUL readers to my Starbucks-induced ridiculousness. (Never, ever drink coffee late at night when you know you will consequently be up until all hours of the night.) With that said, I will simply say that there was minor, minor tweaking to the last chapter and, if you are unclear about something or feel that I have a fact wrong, _please e-mail me_. K'thanx. Also, the response from the last chapter was amazing and I thank all of you profusely from the bottom of my heart! I'm signing off before I go back into my original... diatribe.

PS This is just a general statement and has nothing to do with reviews from last chapter or anything in particular -- I do NOT hate Jack or Cruger. (That is all that is left of the original diatribe.) K'thanx. Really signing off this time... I promise!


	15. Masquerade III

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Fifteen: Masquerade III**

"What in the name of all that is holy is _he_ doing here?"

"He said he felt well enough to come." There was a pause. "And the show does open in three weeks."

"I don't care! Felix said he had a temperature of a hundred and _two_ this morning!"

"Well – he's here. I don't know what else to tell you."

"How about – Paris, I will tell my roommate he's being crazy and make him go back to bed." There was another pause. "That would have worked just fine!"

Sky took a deep breath. He had forced himself to get out of bed to come to the rehearsal tonight. They were attempting to run the show without stopping and without people calling for their lines. The morning and afternoon had been spent sleeping, the lone exception being when Doctor Felix came by his room to prescribe him some drugs and to make sure he had plenty of liquids. After dinnertime, he had dragged himself through a shower and down to the auditorium. Now, he was listening to Paris chew out Bridge for letting him come to the rehearsal. Of course, she didn't know that he had left while Bridge was still at dinner.

Paris stopped arguing with Bridge. He listened as she came down the center aisle, Bridge running down one of the sides to go backstage in order to change into his rehearsal costume. The rest of the cast was there – and Z was up to speed on her job description, now monitoring them and corralling people as needed.

"Good grief – you look terrible," she commented.

"Thanks," he muttered, his voice still hoarse.

"I should order you to go back to bed," Paris replied in a musing tone of voice. "But since you're insistent upon being a stubborn oaf, you can stay."

Sky didn't reply. Paris was carrying a comforter and a shoulder bag. She draped the comforter over him and he gladly accepted the extra warmth. Sitting in the seat next to him, she began to rummage through her bag, pulling out a thermos. "Tomato soup," she said, handing it to him. "Since I have a feeling all you've had today is juice and water."

"And drugs," he added.

"Of course – the most important thing, how could I forget?"

They fell into a companionable silence. Reading Paris was an impossibility – she almost always masked her emotions and reactions underneath an air of aloofness and indifference. But… he got the feeling that she might feel bad about blackmailing him into being the assistant director. None of the problems between him and Syd were her fault – the blame came down to him and his dishonesty with his girlfriend, but Paris probably didn't see it that way. She probably saw her blackmail as the catalyst that caused everything else. But he didn't know. She kept to herself, always had.

"Look," Paris said, turning towards him. "You don't have to keep helping with the play. I know you're already really busy and don't need this on top of it."

"It's a little late for that," he croaked.

Paris looked disgruntled, before taking a deep breath. "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have blackmailed you – I should have let you choose whether or not to help with the play." She paused and nodded. "There – I apologized. Spread the word, hell froze over."

"You don't have to apologize. I let myself be blackmailed."

"Hey – I'm baring my soul here and you're trying to take all the blame. Stop it!"

Sky laughed. The situation and conversation was so ridiculous that he couldn't stop himself before the laughs came spilling out. Paris glared at him, but Z came on their walkie-talkies, saying that the cast was warmed up and ready to go. Paris then radioed Ethan and Trent in the booth and they were ready. She gave the order to start the show.

Much later, after the rehearsal had ended, notes had been given, the sets and props had been struck and everyone dispersed, Sky wasn't sure if he could muster up the energy to drag his aching body back to his room. Paris hopped off the stage and sat down in her previous seat next to him.

"You know, Syd is being dumb."

Sky nearly fell over at her statement. The last thing he had expected was for Paris to bring that particular subject up. "She thought I was cheating on her with you," he replied, knowing that the elder Grayson female didn't know that tidbit.

Paris shrugged. "That's not a surprise." She paused. "There was this one absolute idiot that Syd dated her first year here." She shuddered dramatically. "That was the guy I scared off by talking about meter in poetry. He thought it was weapons' code."

"So you left me and Syd alone because I happened to know about poetry meter?"

"Come on, Sky – you're chivalrous." Paris' gaze turned distant. "I didn't have anyone around to tell me what kind of guys to date and what kind not to." She shook her head. "I didn't want Syd making all the same mistakes I did. I knew that you would treat her right – you would take care of her." Her blue-gray gaze met his. "I knew that if she got pregnant or something, you would stand by her – respect her decision, marry her if that what's she wanted. You never thought that you were too important to put before the people you love."

Sky swallowed, not knowing how to respond to that. Paris had never opened up that much to anyone before – but it made him feel almost heroic to know that she felt that way about her little sister's boyfriend.

"White knight up on a horse, saving the princess from the dragon," Paris continued. "You've always reminded me of that. I remember my first year when you caught that girl who was falling off the cargo net because she didn't have enough upper body strength." She paused. "I always kind of hoped that Syd would end up with you."

"What about you?"

"Please," she snorted. "Most of the men here are afraid of me. They think that I'm a crazy, castrating feminist that wants to rid the world of men – just because I think the five ranger colors should be gender-neutral and our uniforms as well."

"But not Trent?"

"No," she agreed, looking almost dreamy. "Not Trent. No one on the A-Squad was ever intimidated by me, especially Trent." She pulled a necklace on a silver chain from underneath her shirt. The small charm on it was the Eiffel Tower. Sky stifled a laugh. "Trent gave it to me," she said with a smile. "He said it was about time someone made stupid puns about my name."

"I think he's right."

"I do too." She stood up. "Are you going to be able to make it back to your room?"

He shrugged. "I'll get there eventually, even if I have to sleep in the hall a couple of hours." Paris stared at him for a minute before laughing. It occurred to Sky that he had never heard her laugh before – she smiled and snickered, but never just laughed. Her laugh was warm and sincere and so like Syd's…

"Night, Sky," she said, leaving the auditorium.

"Night," he echoed.

* * *

Something was afoot. Syd could tell from the way that Bridge and Z were sneaking around, always whispering to each other with conspiratorial smiles. Sky was sick – Doctor Felix had said something about the flu. She had only seen him once since Doctor Felix ordered him to bed and he had looked awful – pale with dark circles under his eyes. At first, she had felt the urge to coddle him, make him take his medicine and then the awful truth that they weren't speaking to each other would come crashing down and she would remember that she had been the one to start the whole thing.

Austin just ran around as usual, although he was upset with Paris. Her older sister, despite her previous thoughts, was the only one not sick, upset with someone or sneaking around planning something. She wanted to be around someone who was acting relatively stable and Paris seemed to be the only choice.

The halls to the officer apartments were quiet. On a weekday afternoon, most people had a patrol shift. Paris had the afternoon off – meaning her next commitment was the rehearsal that night. Syd didn't bother to announce herself, just walked into her sister's apartment, into the place where she had spent so much time.

"Hi Paris," she called, walking into the living room. Paris was sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on her coffee table, paperwork scattered around her.

"You're speaking to me?" Paris asked. Syd didn't reply, just came over to the couch and sat down next to her. "Send me a memo or something next time." She paused. "Then again, none of you ever tell me anything. I'm like a mushroom – people keep me in the dark and feed me shit." She nodded and then started to collect the papers. "What's up?"

"I miss Sky," she blurted out.

"Oh my God," Paris muttered. "He's still laid up in bed – you could go feed him his soup and make him take his drugs and—"

"What kind of books have you been reading?" Syd interrupted.

"None – and I don't have to because I can see that is exactly what you want to do, but then you remember that you're not speaking to your boyfriend."

Syd sighed. Paris always had been able to read her too entirely well. "I'm not even sure that he's my boyfriend anymore," she whispered.

"Well, you could always cancel your date with Michael Lynch and then go ask Sky to escort you to the Halloween party. I don't know – start over or something."

She wanted to start over. Everything that had gone wrong in their relationship had been her fault and she knew that she had to be the one to start reconciling. However, she couldn't back out of the date with Michael – she couldn't! He worshipped her – granted in a little boy crush kind of way, not the way that Sky worshipped her. Sky saw her as his equal, but he just as fiercely wanted to protect her. He did love her – she knew that.

"I think you should send him some flowers."

"Me send _him_ flowers?" Syd gaped at her sister.

"Sure. Nothing fancy – just like a pink carnation and a blue one."

"What?"

"Boys like getting presents just as much as girls – they just don't admit to it because it might impugn on their masculinity." Paris paused. "You see, boys are genetically predisposed to being stupid. They can't admit to themselves that they might want the same things that girls want, so they hide it by being dumb."

Oh Lord – there went another one of Paris' feminist theories. Syd wasn't entirely sure what she was getting at, but she stood up, putting all the papers in a neat stack and picked up her wallet from where it had been sitting on the table.

"Let's go."

"Where?"

"To the flower shop."

Syd didn't argue, simply because she wasn't sure what she was arguing against. She followed Paris out of her apartment and out of the SPD building. The afternoon was cool, but not entirely uncomfortable yet. Although that meant that Sky probably had the heater in his room going full blast. He was probably freezing right now. She let out a long breath. When they spent the night together, he was never cold. There had been times when he curled up against her, letting her hold him, run her fingers through his hair and listen to his even breathing as he fell into a peaceful sleep.

She and Paris walked along in a comfortable silence. There never seemed to be a need to fill silence with idle chatter around her sister. Paris let people with their thoughts and didn't have a problem letting life just _be_. It had been a long time since the pair of them had spent much time together. Before, when they had both been cadets, when Cruger had still be in charge and not in jail, they had spent all their free time together, looking at fashion magazines, talking about how ugly the stars looked and drooling over Bronley Hale.

"You know, you're coming to the Bronley Hale concert with me."

Syd smiled. "I think I knew that. Who else is coming?"

"I was thinking Z. Girl's night out – might be fun."

"Works for me."

There was a silence. "Remind me to show you the blackmail pictures of Sky."

"Blackmail pictures?" she sputtered.

Paris smiled, giving her a sidelong glance. "Don't look so shocked. He was at my sixteenth birthday. All I basically have are pictures of him and Dru with the rest of the group. Nothing incriminating."

Syd gaped at her for a minute before laughing. "That's how you got him to be the assistant director? You blackmailed him? And he fell for it?"

"Hook, line and sinker," she replied. "I'm not sure what he thought was in those pictures since I wasn't friends with him and wouldn't have gone to any of the same after-party things that he and his bunch did."

"God, he's gullible," Syd said, shaking her head.

"He's just paranoid about his rep." Paris gestured to the flower shop. "Here we are."

Fresh flowers were in buckets and stands outside the store and an older woman was sitting in a lawn chair, smiling at them as they approached. Syd stared at the endless lines of flowers – how did guys manage to pick out flowers for their girlfriends? Sky had sent her flowers on a few occasions – her birthday, for instance. The woman who ran this place must be willing to help these boys out.

She picked up a light pink carnation and another that was baby blue. As she paid, the woman in the lawn chair gave her a short length of white ribbon to tie them together with. She and Paris were silent as they made their way back to the academy. She said goodbye to her sister as Paris headed back for her apartment and her paperwork and Syd made towards the dorms. No one was around the dorms on a weekday afternoon – the cadets were still in class and the B-Squad generally had training or patrol shifts. She knew that Z and Austin were on duty – she couldn't remember if Bridge was or not. He might have been filling in for Sky.

The door to Sky and Bridge's room was open when she came onto the boys' floor. She peered in, hoping that Sky was asleep. He was – curled up in a ball under his comforter and two other blankets, facing the wall and shaking, even in his sleep.

Bridge was sitting at his desk and grinned as she came in. She motioned for him to stay silent and approached Sky's bed. He didn't stir. She placed the flowers on the side of his pillow he wasn't using. Reaching out, she touched his forehead. He felt warm – not hot, like he might have yesterday. She straightened his blankets, tucking him in properly. Leaning over, she placed a gentle kiss to his forehead before retreating from the room.

They needed to talk – she just didn't know when.

* * *

Sky jerked awake. Sitting up, he realized that he was alone in the room. Bridge must have gone on his patrol shift. Outside, the sun was setting. He pushed his covers off his chest and rubbed his eyes. It was then he noticed something on his pillow. He reached down and picked up the two flowers – two carnations, one pink and one blue. What?

He held the two flowers loosely, twirling the stems between his fingers. There was only one person who would leave him flowers – and flowers in that particular color scheme. Syd… He wanted to find her and kiss her senseless – not caring that they needed to talk. He shivered involuntarily. As much as he hated to admit to it, he was lonely. Lately, it had felt like he was an outsider looking in and not being able to participate in anything that his friends did.

His stomach rumbled. He needed to get dressed – if he hurried, he could still make the end of dinner in the cafeteria. Tomorrow he would be back on a normal schedule. Felix had told him to take today off simply because he hadn't eaten anything the day before and the doctor didn't think going on a patrol was a good idea on an empty stomach. He glanced down at the flowers… and he suddenly didn't want to eat.

"I love you so much, Syd," he whispered. Nothing in life was perfect – their relationship would never be perfect, but he ached to have her in his arms, to whisper about how beautiful she was… he knew exactly what to do to make her scream in ecstasy. He could see her, hair spread out on the pillow and cheeks flushed from their activities, her nails scrabbling at his back when he would just…

He let the thought trail off before he could finish it.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in!" he called and the doors slid open to reveal Conner. He was the absolute last person Sky was expecting to be here.

"Hey," Conner said, stepping into the room. "I just came by the see if you're all right."

Sky snorted. "Depends on your definition."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

Conner just shook his head and took a seat on the edge of his bed. Sky pulled his legs towards his chest, making room. He wasn't going to get rid of Conner anytime soon. It hadn't been all that long ago that he answered directly to Conner, that he had to learn to get along with and work with the man.

"Well," Conner started. "Everyone knows that you and Syd are having problems."

"As if that could remain a secret around here."

"You never know." Conner gave him a searching look. "And I know that that isn't the entire reason you've been upset."

Sky moved his hands behind his neck, locking his fingers and resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't want to lose her," he whispered.

"What about the flowers?" Conner asked, motioning to the carnations that were now resting in his lap. Sky didn't reply. "You just have to trust that things will work out. I had some pretty low times, but I got through them – I'm here."

"I just want to be left alone," Sky said softly. "So much has happened too fast."

"It will work out," Conner repeated. "Faith," he added softly, before he stood up and went to the door. Once there, he paused and turned back. "And Sky, just for the record, you could do a whole hell of a lot worse than Syd – a whole lot worse."

With that, he was gone and Sky was left puzzling over what he meant.

* * *

"Are you busy?"

Paris looked up from her work in the command center. It was late – she was the only one there and her evening shift didn't end until eleven. Austin was standing near her around the main console, looking a little uncomfortable. She shook her head, knowing what her twin wanted this time around. Austin might have been the elder – by a whole two minutes – but there were times she felt like she was so much older than him. He spent so much time protecting people and making people get along that he was walked over more often than not.

"Well, I've got A-Squad medic reports due tomorrow morning, some operating reports that someone didn't do correctly and I've got to profile criminals." She met his gaze and shrugged. "So, I'm not really busy, no."

"I just wanted to apologize for getting in your face about Trent."

"It's all right – you're a boy. You're genetically predisposed to stupidity. It comes from not having the right reproductive organs."

"I don't know," Austin said, sitting down next to her. "It's just that he's almost old enough to be your father – our father." He paused. "Are you sure you know what you're getting into?"

Paris met his gaze. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

That much was true. She hadn't been this sure about something in a long time. Trent, in the short time they had been together, had become a stabilizing, anchoring force. He kept her grounded, while she forced him to get out and explore. Of course, their sex life was an added bonus – and the fact that Trent listened to her, didn't tune her out like most.

What no one seemed to realize was that she had finally met her match. Outwardly, Trent and she were nothing alike, but Trent was just as outspoken, wild, active… he just expressed it through his comics and art instead of charging around SPD threatening Doctor Oliver with a boycott or a protest about something. He was subtle, whereas she was loud and refused to be silenced once she made her opinion known.

"Have you told Mom and Dad?" Austin asked.

"Oh – they've known since it began."

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm updating like a little fiend this week! (Work has died down with the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday... although it will be back in full force when I get back here.) And just for my own curiosity, has everyone who is reading this piece read _Kings and Vagabonds? _I'm assuming so, but I don't remember seeing a couple of you on those review boards. Oh well. Unimportant. With that said, reviewer responses:

_alexis_ - My dear, it never fails, your reviews make me laugh. We might share a brain. The storyline with him getting sick was in place a long time ago though. Glad you're still enjoying!

_BloomingViolets_ - Z is a sneaky one, isn't she? I'm glad these chapters make your day. (It makes my day when people review!) I guess Syd kind of got to take care of Sky in this chapter... glad you're liking it!

_Funky In Fishnet_ - I'm glad you liked the costume shop and Rain. She came in and it was one of those times where the character starts to speak for you and I left her with the indirect connection to Sky. Thanks!

_garnetred_ - Thanks! Yup, he's got the flu (or something flu-like at any rate). And why would he miss the Halloween party? He already bought a kick-ass costume, so of course he's going!

_Gear's Girl _- Indeed, poor Sky!

_Giannola_ - You'll see how the whole engagement ring thing (that rhymes) resolves itself. Definitely nothing worse than the flu...

_Moi_ - Nothing too bad for Sky, I promise. Thanks!

_Pink-Green-White-4ever_ - When am I going to get Sky and Syd back together? Patience... Chris Violette in tights - enough said! I'm glad you're liking this piece! (I think I've read some of your work - and I probably didn't review because I tend to read fan fic in between doing a million and one things for school.)

_Samurai-Nashie_ - Theoretical film essay? That sounds slightly terrifying. As for Jack, he's either in jail still or back out on the streets (you can take your pick.) He doesn't have genetic powers in this AU - long story. There actually was an abandoned storyline to this piece where Jack makes a return appearance and stirs up trouble for Z. But, sadly, it got sacked.

_sky's girl forever _- Sky does live kind of a Murphy's Law life in this AU, doesn't he? That's not entirely intentional. I guess he's going to have a Grumpy Bear outlook with the whole, "Why is it always me?"

_the real vampire_ - Thanks! Yeah - you do need to watch out for that coffee! (I know better than to drink coffee late at night, but I do it anyways.)

_Weesta_ - Thanks! Bridge and Z have a plan... we shall see if it's any good. lol As for Sky, besides his Murphy's Law existence, he's one of those people that is just naturally always cold. There was actually a snow scene that got removed from the final version where the others chuck snowballs at Sky's window. However, sadly, all the fun stuff I wanted in this piece didn't make it.


	16. Masquerade IV

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Sixteen: Masquerade IV**

"That's most ridiculous plan I've heard yet."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah – I wish I thought of it." There was a pause. "You guys can't seriously think that it will work, can you?"

"You never know."

Sky walked into the command center and the trio immediately fell silent. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Bridge, Z and Paris. Bridge was doing his best to look innocent, while Z was looking like a cat that just ate a bird. Paris was stifling snickers. The A-Squad Pink Ranger shook her head and she stood up from where she had been seated at the main consol and headed for the door.

"My condolences," she told him, clapping his shoulder on the way out.

_Oh shit_… He pinned Bridge and Z with a glare. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Bridge said quickly. "We were just… uh… talking about games for the Halloween party tonight."

"No, you weren't."

"How did you know?"

Keeping up a ruse never had been one of Bridge's strong suits. Z smacked his upper arm and he winced, rubbing the offending area. "What?" he squawked at his girlfriend. She gave him a pointed stare before inclining her head towards Sky. "Oh," Bridge said, realization dawning on him. However, what realization, Sky didn't know.

"What is going on?" he repeated.

"Nothing," Z repeated in turn. "We've got to go get ready for the party and start getting things set up." She hauled Bridge out of the command center, him protesting all the way.

"What do we need four hours for?" he heard Bridge ask distantly.

Sky shook his head and went to the main consol, pulling up the information he needed in a matter of moments. An intergalactic criminal – one of the many remnants of Gruumm – was floating around Newtech City. The revenge line was getting old, but the criminal had still managed to escape the daily patrol squad. Doctor Oliver had both squads of rangers on the lookout for him and his information was readily available from SPD Main Headquarters.

The doors to the command center slid open and he glanced over his shoulder to see Syd coming in. She went to the main consol, the station next to him and silently began to bring up whatever files she needed. She glanced at him and a sad smile tugged at her lips. He returned the small smile, downloading the information on the criminal to his morpher.

"Are you coming to the party?"

The question was so unexpected, yet so natural that he started. He turned to Syd and she had a questioning look on her face. "I don't know," he replied. That much was true – he hadn't made up his mind if he was going to the party – and wearing the costume he had paid too much for – or if he was going to conveniently be absent from SPD grounds…

"Bridge said you bought a costume." Her voice was shy, timid.

He shrugged at the question. "Doesn't mean I have to wear it."

She smiled. "I hope you'll be there."

With that, she left the command center. He glanced at his watch. Doctor Oliver had given the B-Squad the afternoon off in order to organize the party and take care of last minute details. Moving slowly, he walked from the command center to his room. Bridge wasn't in the room when he got there. He sank down onto his bed. Less than a minute later, Paris burst into his room, screeching to a halt just before she would have gone head-first over his bed.

"You're not supposed to enter another person's living quarters without permission," Sky told her. "The only exception is the RA conducting room checks."

"Whatever," she replied, brushing off his comment. "You might want to hear this. Bridge and Z had the world's funniest plan to get you and Syd back together at the party tonight." She paused. "And the costumes for _the Cellblock Tango_ came in."

"What plan?"

"_The_ plan." She shrugged. "Just thought I'd give you a heads-up so that you don't wonder why you got locked in a closet with Syd."

"Locked in a closet?"

"Just act naturally and go with it."

"I think I'm going to be ill."

"Bad excuse – they'll check and your cover will be blown."

She left the room. He could hear her down the hall singing _All That Jazz_ at the top of her lungs. The amazing part was that no one stuck his head out of his room in order to tell her to shut-up. Then again, most of the cadets were terrified of Paris.

He really did not want to go to this party.

* * *

"Paris!" Syd called as she walked into her sister's apartment. "Can I borrow your black camisole?" The main area of the apartment was empty, but the bedroom door was open and Syd could see Paris glancing at her, hairdryer in hand.

"Which black camisole?" her sister responded.

Syd went into the bedroom. Paris was brushing her hair, still wearing a short, black silk bathrobe. She went to the closet and pulled out the top she wanted. It was a simple top with a little lace around the neck.

"What are you going as?" Paris asked.

She sank down onto the bed, holding the shirt. "I don't know," she replied. "I didn't go get a costume and I'm trying to improvise something."

"You've been brooding and not shopping – I'm disappointed." Her older sister shook her head in mock severity. "You're breaking a tradition!"

"I just haven't been in the mood to dress up."

"Blasphemy," Paris replied with a grin. "Lucky for you, I took the liberty and went shopping for you." She paused and cocked her head to one side. "And I got Bridge to spill the details of the costume that Sky got."

"What?"

Paris didn't say anything as she went to her closet and rummaged around, pulling a garment in a dry cleaner's bag from the back. The pair of them could share tops and shoes, even though they were one shoe size off. However, dresses and pants didn't work because Paris was so much taller than her – sometimes skirts worked, but not much else. Something like this meant that Paris had to have special-ordered it or bought the item with Syd in mind. She laid the garment in Syd's lap.

She stood up, peeling the white plastic bag away from the cloth and gasped, nearly dropping the dress. The dress was Renaissance style with a fitted corset style top. The top skirt and bodice of the dress were navy blue but the underskirt was dark pink. Silver accents with an off-white undershirt… Syd sank down onto the bed once more, running her fingers over the heavy, brocade fabric.

"I—I don't know what to say."

Paris sat down next to her. "You always did look good in blue."

"But, Sky… a Renaissance costume?" Her tone sounded incredulous.

Her sister just grinned. "You'll have to find out."

Syd glanced at Paris' alarm clock on her nightstand. "Oh my God!" she gasped, bolting to her feet. "I've only got two hours to get ready!" She started to make a mental inventory of all the things she needed to do – shower, decide on an appropriate hairstyle for the evening, redo her entire make-up scheme, apologize to Michael after all this was said and done…

"Slow down," Paris said. "The other thing you need to know before this evening is that Bridge and Z have a wild plan to get you and Sky back together – so don't be surprised if this date with Mr. Lynch gets wrecked."

"This ought to be entertaining," Syd grumbled.

"Just let them have fun – they've been planning this for a while."

"Can you fix my hair?" Syd asked softly.

"Yes, if you hurry up!"

Syd let out a squeak and raced out of the apartment, towards her room. She could shower and then bring her make-up to Paris' apartment. Her sister would know what to do with that particular dilemma for the night. Besides, her and Sky would show up in matching costumes – something that Sky didn't know. Maybe his costume had tights…

She shivered at the thought – how that would make him look entirely too good… and how he would have no clue what all the girls were ogling. Then again, did she want all those other girls ogling at Sky? Nope… she wanted to do that all by herself…

* * *

The entire evening had been kind of like watching a train wreck, Bridge reflected. He had known that both Syd and Sky knew about the plot – and knew that Paris had been the one to tip them off, although she denied it loudly and vehemently. The train wreck started when the three B-Squad males got to the lounge to start setting up. All of them were in costume, but it was clear that Sky was not comfortable walking around in his – and the Blue Ranger hadn't bailed out.

Z had shown up with Paris closer to the party's starting time. Bridge wasn't sure how the girls had managed it, but Z's hair was in soft curls, falling loose around her face. Little silk yellow roses and butterflies were artfully placed in her hair. Her yellow fairy dress was gathered at the bust and the gauzy material flowed gracefully. The wings matched the dress and seemed to flow seamlessly. Paris had gone the opposite direction – short black skirt, black halter top and black wings… Goth fairy. Body glitter also seemed to have exploded in their vicinity.

"Syd's coming a little later with her date," Paris had announced before she took over organizing the cookie walk – and hid all the 'good' cookies for them.

Set-up had been uneventful – aside from Sky humming a song from the show under his breath while he put dry ice in the punch.

The train wreck started when people started arriving. Syd and Michael Lynch had arrived later than most. Lynch was in a wizard costume, but Syd… Bridge didn't know where she got the dress or how she got it to match so perfectly with what Sky was wearing, but he did suspect Paris' hand in things once more.

"You bought Syd the dress," he had hissed to her.

Paris held up her hands in innocence. "Hey – you guys are busy rearranging people's lives and I wanted to get in on the action."

Sky was staring at Syd with blatant awe, lust and love in his eyes – before he almost fell over R.I.C., who was projecting an old horror movie on one wall.

The party went along as usual until the group games. People mingled, danced, stuffed their faces with candy and most of the males tried bobbing for apples. Paris, having lost interest in the cookie walk, spent most of that time walking around with a clipboard, deciding who got the costume prizes.

Soon enough, Paris announced that she had to go 'consult' someone about the costume prizes and disappeared – Z decided that it was time to start playing the group games. Doctor Oliver had approved all the games, much to the facilitators' surprise. Either he didn't know what some of the games were or he didn't care.

"Seven Minutes of Heaven!" Z called.

She had borrowed Bridge's top hat and all the people who wanted to participate put their names on slips of paper – girls on pink paper and boys on blue. The object of the game was to pick a random girl and boy and the couple got to spend seven minutes in a closet together, locked in and timed down to the nanosecond by those outside. Syd had put her name in – Sky hadn't, but Bridge had remedied that problem. Their slips of paper had dots on them and Z knew to draw them first.

"First is…" Z made a show of grabbing the dotted pieces of paper. "Syd… and Sky!"

"I didn't put my name in the hat," Sky sputtered.

"Yes you did," Bridge told him.

Sky gave him a disgruntled look that clearly said _whatever_, but he got up. Neither he nor Syd looked entirely surprised at this, although Lynch was looking almost… panicked. Apparently, this date was not going as the cadet had planned.

Z led them out to the hall – to the custodial closet that the RAs had keys to. She ushered Sky and Syd inside before shutting and locking the door. The group of cadets that followed were laughing and talking amongst themselves. Most people were too concerned with the possibilities for their pairing to worry about what Sky and Syd might get up to in the closet. After seven minutes, Z let them out – both looked bemused. Syd retreated into the lounge with Lynch while Sky looked like he really wanted to lecture someone.

Things continued swimmingly until the Twister mat got pulled out. By this time, Paris had reappeared and promised to announce the costume winners at ten-thirty. Paris suggested a ranger game of Twister – Syd and Z agreed immediately while Bridge had to browbeat Sky into joining them. The five of them proceeded to the game – Violet, the cadet playing Velma Kelly in the show, offered to man the spinner and, from her wink at him, Bridge knew that she had picked up on the plot concerning Sky and Syd.

"Right foot red!" Violet called.

Z made a huge show out of falling and crawling out from underneath the twisted bodies surrounding her. Paris seemed to get the hint, because the next thing Violet called caused her to lose her balance and take him with her. That left Sky and Syd… and Syd was draped over Sky in a position that was probably making Lynch see red.

"Syd, left hand green," Violet ordered.

Concentration passed over the B-Squad Pink Ranger's features. Her tongue was pressed to the corner of her mouth as she stretched her arm over Sky – and things began to happen in slow motion. She was too short to reach the nearest green dot, especially from the way she was positioned over Sky. She lost her balance and fell – on top of Sky – and both of them hit the mat with a thud.

A high flush rose in Sky's cheeks and anyone with a brain could see that Syd was not moving from lying on top of him. Bridge had a suspicion as to why she was doing that – and Sky would be mortified even more if she stood up.

Syd whispered something in Sky's ear. A wry smile cracked his face before they untangled themselves and stood up. Lynch claimed his date again and Paris announced that she was now giving out the costume awards. That got most people's attention and, shortly after the awards went out, people began to disperse back to their rooms for the night.

Now, Bridge was left in the lounge, the debris from the party still around them. Z was sitting next to him, snuggled against his side. Sky had claimed a headache and gone back to their room. Paris had taken off her wings and was lying on one of the couches, studying her fingernails – black nail polish with white lightening bolts. Syd came into the lounge and sat on the couch nearest to Paris.

"How's Lynch?" her sister asked.

Syd sighed. "Better than he was – I apologized for tonight and told him that there could never be anything between us. He was disgruntled, but I think he'll recover." She gave Bridge and Z appraising looks. "Your strategy was kind of obvious."

"I thought that Twister game was ingenious myself," Paris commented.

"Sorry about that," Z murmured. "It wasn't supposed to be quite so obvious."

"Yeah well," Syd said. "I'm kind of glad you guys did it. It's good to know that I still turn Sky on." That got appreciative chuckles from the assembled group. "Sky and I just need to have a long talk," she continued. "Things can only get better from here."

* * *

"You look pensive."

"I'm trying to look petulant. Do I look petulant?"

"You look like you have gas."

Paris laughed, her laughter washing over him in golden waves. Trent smiled and shook his head as he entered her bedroom. Her fairy wings were over a chair in the corner and she was lying on her bed, her hands under her head. Her legs were bent at the knee. He sat next to her, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her lips. She smiled and returned the kiss.

"Why are you trying to look petulant?"

"I think it's a look that all girls should master."

He didn't reply, just continued smiling. Her hair had been curled for the Halloween party, but her straight, silky hair refused to stay curled and the limp waves spread out around her in a golden halo. Trent handed her the package he had brought, wrapped in brown paper. She took it, frowning and sitting up.

"What's this?"

He watched as she tore open the wrapping, his heart beating in anticipation. She turned over the frame and gasped. He knew the small painting – knew it by heart. There was a forest scene, bright sunlight – and a fairy sitting by a stream.

"That's me," Paris whispered.

"Yes," he replied, his voice soft and husky.

"No black?"

"I was going to put a black dress in there, but the colors just kind of… came out."

"I see." She put the small painting aside and scooted closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms went around her waist as he pulled her into his lap. She let out a contented sigh as she laid her head against his shoulder, her breath warm on his neck. They stayed like that for a few moments, just enjoying the feel of each other. Lately, it seemed that Paris almost invented things to do, giving her an excuse to run herself ragged. Their patrol work was not demanding – it hadn't been for some time. But she just kept pushing herself and she didn't have an apparent goal.

Gently easing her away from him, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he murmured, unable to stop the words from coming.

Her eyes widened in shock and surprise… and a hint of pleasure. "Do you mean that?" she whispered. Her tone was curious, but not vindictive.

"Yes," the word just a whisper, but clearly audible.

She looked away briefly before bringing her gaze back to his. "You're the first person, aside from family members, to say that to me."

"No one else," he asked incredulously. "I thought you had dated other people."

"Sure, but most of them thought I was easy…" she trailed off, pain evident in her eyes, the isolation she felt dragging her apart. "I have never declined sex, just because I view it as a recreational activity. No one else sees it that way." She paused, her gaze meeting his. "I'm tired, Trent," she whispered. "I'm tired of… of acting out the part, of protecting the people I love… I want a break. I'm so tired of it…"

The unshed tears that glistened in her eyes stabbed at his heart. He cupped the side of her face, his thumb stroking her defined cheekbone. "No one will think less of you if you leave SPD," he said softly.

"What can I do? I've hated it here but it's all I've known."

"Go to college, go abroad… go home and take classes at the community college." He leaned closer to her, pressing his forehead to hers. "You're smart, practical – if anyone can think of something to do, it's you."

A sad smile appeared on her face. "When I was younger, I wanted to go to college in a big city – LA, New York, Chicago… I didn't know what I wanted to study or anything, but…" She shook her head. "SPD became everything and Cruger had it fixed for so long so I couldn't leave without becoming the next person living under the freeway overpass…"

"You'll think of something," he murmured, capturing her lips in a brief kiss.

"Trent?"

"Hmmm?"

"Stay here tonight."

He nodded. She needed someone, but didn't want to admit it to herself. He had fallen in love with her – he had tried so hard not to, but it had happened. He wanted to fix her problems, solve everything… he wanted so much, but was left helpless and only watching.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** OMG! I saw the SPD finale today and loved it! So awesome... it also proves that I'm psychic (I won't say about what - it will become apparent very soon. Just keep in mind that I completed this piece before I saw the finale.) My baby (Sky) got to be Red Ranger! Ack! I'm still flipping out about it... At any rate, the reviews have been absolutely awesome guys! Keep it up! Oh, and blame the lack of reviewer responses on an paper for Cross Cultural Psychology that's due before Thanksgiving. You guys rock!

PS Bridge went as a magician - I just realized that that particular fact is not in the text anywhere...


	17. Show Business I

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Seventeen: Show Business I**

_Year 2021 - November_

Bridge followed Sky into the small house, taking in the familiar sights. He had considered Eric Myers' house home for so many years… Granted, his parents now had a house in Newtech so that was 'home', but nothing could take away the place he had looked forward to coming to since enrolling at the academy. The house was quiet – Eric and Taylor would still be at work.

In two nights, it was opening night for the show – the rehearsal for cast and crew was later that night and Bridge knew that Paris was already in the auditorium with Ethan and Trent, doing last minute checks on anything she could think of. Sky had said he was going home for an hour or so that afternoon to get a few things – and had offered to let Bridge tag along. He had agreed and they made the three-minute drive to Sky's childhood home.

"Feel free to raid the fridge or something," Sky said. "I won't be long."

With that, Sky disappeared into his bedroom. Bridge hummed to himself as he wandered into the kitchen and inspected the contents of the refrigerator. If there was one thing he had learned about Sky's house, it was that there were always sandwich fixings available. He quickly made a sandwich and sat down at the table to eat.

The front door opened and Bridge twisted around to see Taylor walking in. "You came over here to raid the fridge?" she asked. He nodded. She rolled her eyes and then smiled. "Hi Bridge," she added, coming into the kitchen and pulling a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge.

"Hi Taylor," he responded.

"You two are incorrigible," Taylor said, sitting down across from him. "You come over here and eat all the food in an afternoon."

"You like having us around and you know it."

"When you're right, you're right." Her blue eyes grew distant, her hands idly toying with her glass. "You know, when Sky was little, people used to think he was my son. I'd take him somewhere and people would say, 'oh, your son looks just like you!'" She shook her head. "People thought the same thing about you."

"Really?" Bridge knew that he had lived with Sky and his father when he had been three, but didn't know the details of the stay.

"It was the eyes," she replied. "People would say that you had my eyes." She smiled wistfully. "Eric would take you two places and people would give him weird looks – he used to say that he was babysitting so that no one would whisper."

Bridge smiled. "Was it weird having us both around?"

"When you were little? No… it was natural." She gave him an appraising look. "And now that I think about it, it was oh-so obvious what your powers were."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. You had these pajamas with like turtles or something on them. The bottoms were footy. The top was too big and you would pull the sleeves over your hands and walk about like that for hours – try to pick things up and do things normally with your hands in the sleeves." She gave him a genuine full smile. "You guys were so adorable."

"You should tell my mom these things," he said softly. "She'd want to know."

"I don't doubt that," Taylor replied. "You never had things easy when you were little – and God knows we wanted to keep you. But no… they came and took you away." She paused. "You knew that we wanted you to stay – and I think that's why you were inconsolable when you were taken from us."

Bridge gazed at her, taking in the memories and the pain there. Eric, Taylor and Sky had always considered themselves a family – even though Eric and Taylor weren't married and she had no legal rights over Sky… Once he came home, so to speak, at age fifteen, they had adopted him back into the family. What would it have been like to actually grow up as Eric's son and Sky's brother? Better than what his childhood turned out to be…

"I'm glad you have your family back, Bridge," Taylor said softly. "That was the one thing you were always missing. But… if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thanks," he replied softly.

She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. He smiled, feeling the love and reassurance washing off of her. He knew that she cared about him – and always had. When he finally was placed with his adopted parents, he knew that she had been heartbroken, having wanted him to stay.

"And you and Z be careful," she added. "I don't want grandchildren right now."

Bridge laughed. Things around here tended to circle around to a sex talk sooner or later… "We are careful," he replied with a smile.

"Good," she replied with a smile. "There're times I swear you have more sense than Sky." She was grinning.

"Sky has a bigger sense of duty," he said. "He doesn't always see the big picture." He shrugged. "I just forget his work schedule – and he's walked in on me and Z before."

Taylor laughed. "Since he's doing the same thing with his girlfriend, I don't think he's going to have a huge problem."

"Well, not a _huge_ problem…"

* * *

"What are you looking for?" 

Sky paused from his search and turned to see his father standing in the door to his room. In the background, he could hear Taylor and Bridge talking… ironically enough, this was his family, the people he considered his family…

"My journals from when I was first at SPD," he replied, turning back to his closet and reaching up for another shoebox.

"Why?"

"Because I honestly don't remember meeting Syd. I remember meeting Bridge – move-in day that year, but Syd… it's like she just appeared."

He pulled the shoebox down and set it on his bed, rifling through the filled-up notebooks and mementos stuffed in it. Pulling out a worn spiral, he flipped it open to the first page and realized that it was from his second year at the academy – the year of Paris' infamous birthday party. He could barely read his own handwriting, but knew that he wouldn't have met Syd until the next year.

"Well, I found some stuff you might be interested in."

Sky looked up at his father. "Really?"

Eric nodded and moved into the room, holding out a handful of pictures. Sky took them, sitting down on his bed. They were old pictures – the first one in the stack was from his sixth birthday party. He was seated in front of his cake, looking embarrassed at all the attention, but pleased. A little girl with brown pigtails was standing on the chair next to him, wearing a lavender dress. In the picture, she was pressing a kiss to his cheek and he had his nose wrinkled ever so slightly in disgust.

"Who is that?" he asked.

His father sat down next to him. "That's Z."

"Z?"

"Yeah – she stayed with us for about two weeks when she was three. Cole and Alyssa were trying to hide her, so I took her in." He paused, smiling. "Back then, she was going to marry you and insisted on wearing that dress to your party."

"What?" he asked with a laugh.

"Said it herself."

He looked at the next picture. He recognized himself – wearing shorts with a Superman shirt and a blanket tied around his neck as a cape. He had his hands on his hips, chest thrown out in his best superhero pose – and he couldn't have been more than six. There was another kid in the picture – much younger at about three. He was wearing pajamas that were white with green turtles on them. Like Sky, he had a blanket tied around his neck but also had goggles, a stuffed dinosaur and a dinosaur flashlight… Olive? Bridge?

"Is that me and Bridge?" he asked.

"Sure is – you were Batman and told Bridge that he had to be Robin because he was younger." Eric's eyes held a nostalgic look.

"Did he have something to say about that?"

"No – he just wanted a cape."

Sky rifled through the rest of the pictures. There was one more from his sixth birthday that had Z in it. The others were of him and Bridge – at six and three. They were various shots of the pair of them running around the house, sitting in the armchair together, holding baskets for an Easter egg hunt, dressed up to go to church, pajama-clad and on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them and even one of them inside a fort they had constructed out of couch cushions and sheets. He smiled in spite of himself, shards of memories coming back to him. The last pictures were of the four of them at the beach – Eric, Taylor, himself and Bridge. The final snapshot was of Taylor and Bridge – Taylor was wearing sunglasses, her blonde hair windblown and carrying Bridge, who was dead asleep on her shoulder and sucking his thumb.

"God, we were little hellions," he muttered.

Eric shook his head. "Not really. You guys were good boys – the problems you both had early on were understandable." He paused. "And you two have grown up into good men. I don't think I could have asked for anything more."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I know that I'm never going to have children of my own – you two are it and I have been privileged to have been allowed to raise you."

"Dad…" he started, trailing off, not sure how to express anything he felt.

"Look, Sky, I have always been proud of you and I always will be. Do not ever think anything else, all right?"

He nodded, emotion clogging his throat.

Eric listened to Taylor's distant laughter for a moment. "I think we should go in there and rescue Bridge from Taylor." He paused, shaking his head.

"Come on, Dad," Sky said with a grin. "He's her baby."

"Baby or not, I wouldn't subject anyone to that kind of reminiscing."

* * *

Paris' apartment was brimming with people – family. Syd let out a long breath, curled up on one corner of the couch. Paris and her father were sitting at the small kitchen table, working on a crossword puzzle. To what purpose, she would never know. Austin was on patrol and her mother was down in the infirmary, taking care of Conner and his perpetually messed up ankle. Opening night was in two nights' time… Uncle Ryan and Granpa Mitchell would be in town Friday night for that show… 

Reaching into the pocket of her uniform, she pulled out a worn piece of paper. It was crinkled and had been folded and refolded so many times that holes were appearing on the seams and a strong breeze would have torn the paper asunder. The plain piece of notebook paper held the poem Sky had written so long ago – the poem Paris wanted him to write before she would let him date Syd. This was the final draft – the clean copy that Sky had given her. The title was simply 'Unbelieving'. Underneath it, he had written 'by Schuyler Tate' followed with 'for Sydney.' It did seem like it had been so long ago he was Sky Tate… now he was Schuyler Alan Collins, the son of a billionaire.

The same had happened with her. Not too long ago she had been Sydney Drew, the spoiled daughter of millionaires, the SPD princess. Now she was Sydney Kendrix Grayson, the daughter of two former rangers and heir to that legacy. She smiled to herself – she had wondered about her middle name as a child, and her mother had explained it – her middle name was the name of the Pink Galaxy Ranger, the one that the Lightspeed Rangers met and fought alongside. Kendrix Morgan, the woman who shared Syd's middle name, was Bridge's aunt by marriage. It truly was a small world.

She focused on the piece of paper, taking in the familiar words, words she knew by heart. Their cadence was music… She knew that Sky had worked relentlessly on this poem, wanting to pass the 'test' Paris had set forth and wanting to express his feelings to her. He always had had trouble resisting when someone set a challenge before him… he wanted to prove that he was the best.

Smiling and refolding the paper, she thought to their plans. Most of the family members were coming to the Friday and Saturday night shows. Thursday – opening night – was mostly reserved for other SPD personnel and their Sunday matinee was catering much more for the community. Sky's dad and Taylor were going to be there all four nights. Her parents were there for Thursday and Friday with her uncle and grandfather joining them for the latter. Z's parents were getting into town Thursday along with Wes and Jen. Bridge's parents were coming Thursday and more family members were joining them later in the weekend.

Overall, it was going to be chaotic.

She and Sky still hadn't talked. Oh – they had made an unspoken compromise of being friendly and professional around each other, but she missed his little gestures of affection. During long shifts in the command center, when nothing was happening, he would move behind her and rub her back. On patrol, when they took the Jeep, she would rest her hand on his thigh and he would steal kisses… absolutely, unequivocally non-regulation, but they did it anyways. She missed his presence, his kisses, his lovemaking, his absolute passion for SPD tempered with his absolute passion for her… all the things that made him Sky.

"Teacher of Luke," her father was saying. "Saint Luke?"

"Yoda," Paris replied.

"No," their father scoffed. "In a crossword?"

There was some silence and shuffling.

"You were right – that's impressive."

Syd stifled her snickers into the couch. "You stop cackling!" Paris called. "Are you sure she's related to us?" she asked their father.

Carter looked bemused, pulling his reading glasses off. "I'm sure," he replied. "Although there's times I'm not entirely sure about you…"

Paris gave him a bored glare.

"I'm kidding," he said with a smile.

"Dad," Syd said, sitting up so she had an unobstructed view of Paris and her father. There was one question she had wanted to ask and now was as good a time as any. "How did you know that Mom was the one?"

"The one I was going to marry?" She nodded. Carter looked thoughtful. "I think one morning I just woke up and knew it…" He paused and gave Paris an appraising look. "And that's part of the reason Dana was pregnant with you two before we got married."

"Really?" Paris looked interested.

"Things were rough when you guys were babies, but things settled down, worked out – and if it hadn't been for Ryan and your grandfather I think we would have drowned."

"But how did you know you guys were in love?" Syd persisted.

"Syd," Carter replied. "That's just one of those things you know in your gut. You're either sure of it or you're not."

She fell silent. It wasn't exactly hope that was tugging at her mind, but more a solid realization that her and Sky were in love – forever.

* * *

The cafeteria was brimming with people trying to grab some lunch before their afternoon shift, training or class started. Paris had taken one look at the chaos, grabbed her sandwich and drink and retreated to a one of the round tables in the corner. No one bothered her – most people had to eat and run and the few acquaintances didn't see her. That suited her just fine. She ate with one hand and glanced through a fashion magazine with the other. Her patrol shift that afternoon ended just as rehearsal started – she wouldn't even have time to change from her uniform and tomorrow was opening night. Oh well – sleep was overrated. 

"Can I sit here?"

She glanced up, about to tell off whoever was bothering, but stopped short. Sky was hovering over one of the chairs at the table, giving her a pointed, meaningful stare. In the distance, she could make out the giggling patrol of female cadets that were in love with Sky. She nodded, closing the magazine so he could sit directly next to her. "Sure," she replied. "Trying to escape the dingbat-squad?"

"Among other things." He settled into the chair, looking relieved.

Paris glanced at the girls again. They were staring at her and whispering furiously. She grinned and gave them a small wave, just a flutter of her fingers. One opened her mouth in horror and they began to whisper again. She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder how these people got into this place."

"They might have genetic mutations – that's an automatic pass."

"Maybe when we were cadets – and you forget that _us_ and the people who had Dino-Gems are the only ones with powers." She paused. "Now, our children will have powers – and other children of our parents."

Sky nodded as he unwrapped his sandwich. "You have a point. Wes thinks that Gemma's power might be invisibility."

"Oh yeah?"

"Is two-month old baby supposed to randomly disappear?"

Paris laughed. "No – unless that baby was me escaping."

It was Sky's turn to laugh. "And Bridge says his brother is telekinetic."

"Us growing up was never dull. There's a lot of other words I might use to describe it, but things were never dull."

They fell into a comfortable silence. Paris glanced to the cover of her magazine. Sky never had been one to say much – he preferred silence over idle chatter. But silence was not uncomfortable or awkward, it just _was_. It reminded her of time spent with Trent – the pair of them could go hours without saying anything, because little gestures, like hand-holding or back-massages, said everything that words couldn't. She liked Trent, a lot. She wasn't sure if she would be able to return his 'I love you' for a long time, but she could see herself with him for some time…

"You know," she said, breaking the silence at their table. "Between you and Gemma, you have the same powers that the Invisible Woman from _Fantastic Four_ did."

Sky laughed again. "That's true."

"Hey, guys. Can I join you?"

Paris glanced to Syd, now standing near their table. Wow, she must have won some kind of popularity contest today. Her little sister had her hair back in a simple ponytail, most of the chemically-produced waves falling flat. If Syd didn't try to curl her hair so often, it would have been straight like hers, just not as silky. Though, her hair color was not artificial, like everything else about her hair.

"Yeah – I suppose," she replied.

It escaped no one's notice that she took the free chair on Sky's other side. Paris glanced up, but the giggle-patrol seemed to have moved on. Syd was also sitting just a little closer to Sky than casual-lunch-mates prescribed. Sky didn't seem to be inclined to do anything about it, but he was putting an unnaturally large focus on his lunch.

"So…" she said, breaking the now-awkward silence that had fallen over the table. "I was talking to Ethan and he said that he was working on some morpher prototypes that never got completed – and he wants to start tests in January."

Both Syd and Sky were looking at her like she had grown a second head. Sky swallowed whatever was in his mouth, while he had a confused look on his face. Syd's expression just confirmed that she thought her older sister was weird.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Syd asked.

"Just thought I'd pass on the gossip."

Paris shrugged and went back to her sandwich. Sky and Syd just exchanged an amused glance before they went back to their own food. They were looking too comfortable – she could see it coming. They would start playing footsy and then some serious kissy-face-ness and… How revolting. Why was it that people couldn't control their public displays of affections and confine them to places that weren't… public? She stood up.

"I've got to go. See you guys later."

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hmmm... apparently reviewer responses at the end of chapters are no longer allowed. Oh well! I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and supported this piece - the response has been amazing! You guys are awesome! Everyone (who celebrates it at any rate) have a great Thanksgiving and good luck with all your end-of-semester chaos. 


	18. Show Business II

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Eighteen: Show Business II**

"Oh my God – he's so cute!"

Sky inwardly rolled his eyes at Z gushing over Bridge's baby brother. It was opening night – and all their parents were here. Doctor Oliver, who knew most of them, was talking and giving them the insider's tour. Bridge had decided to watch Jordan for a little while and it was obvious how much he loved his little brother. The baby was just over five months and looked faintly puzzled at all the attention he was receiving.

They were in the lounge – most of the personnel who normally haunted the place were in class. The show members were hanging around, mostly because Doctor Oliver had given them the afternoon off and now their commander was schmoozing their parents, probably for the billionaires' sake, his parents… Bridge had handed Jordan to Z and she looked enthralled to be holding the baby.

He went back to his book, vaguely registering that Bridge and Z were going to go somewhere with Jordan. The lounge fell silent and he was grateful for the quiet. Things had been too loud, too noisy…

"Sky!"

Frowning, he turned to see Jen coming into the lounge with his sister. "Yeah?" he asked, wanting to know what she wanted.

"Can you watch Gemma for me for a few minutes? Wes and I have to talk to Tommy about some donation details and I don't want her to get fussy."

_Or you don't want to bring a baby to business proceedings._ "I don't know," he said hesitantly. "I don't know anything about babies or—"

"Sky, she's sleeping. It will be fine."

Jen put the baby carrier on the couch next to him, along with a diaper bag. He felt panic knot in his stomach as he prayed to any deity out there to give him some kind of wisdom regarding taking care of babies. Gemma was asleep in the carrier, her soft brown hair messy. She was wearing a pink romper.

"There's bottle in the bag if she wakes up," Jen said. "I'll be back in a few."

Sky opened and closed his mouth a few times, not sure how to articulate that he didn't know how to feed a baby, but Jen was gone, leaving him in the lounge with his baby sister. "Great," he muttered. "This is just what I need."

He glanced to his sister. It was hard to think of the baby as his sister. Bridge was his brother – and only three years younger than him. They were peers, contemporaries… Gemma was in an entirely different generation from him. The baby carrier was in neutral colors, but the blankets and padding inside were pink. Talk about being forced into a gender role at an early age. She needed something that wasn't pink. Maybe something blue… He smiled at his own bias towards his ranger color – the ranger color he had abhorred at first.

As if all his nightmares coming true, Gemma woke up and, looking confused, started to fuss. At least it wasn't flat-out wailing… Trying to calm his pounding heart and wracking his mind for whatever lessons Jen had given him back in Silver Hills when Gemma had been born, he reached into the diaper bag and pulled out the bottle. Yup, one of those new kind that stayed at the correct temperature indefinitely. Undoing the buckles that strapped her into the carrier, he lifted her out and settled her into the crook of his arm. She stopped fussing, looking up at him with curious blue eyes.

"Yeah – I'm the guy with the food," he murmured.

He took the cap off the bottle and offered it to her. She began to drink greedily, her tiny hands clasped loosely around the bottle. The panic in his stomach began to quell – he knew that once she finished, she would need to be burped. Soon enough, he had accomplished both tasks, putting the empty bottle and used blanket back in the bag. Gemma was asleep on his shoulder and he wrapped one of the blankets from her carrier around her.

Perhaps babies weren't so bad… Gemma was cute when she wasn't spitting up. "I got the short end of the stick," he said softly. "You get to grow up in the lap of luxury…" He shook his head, realizing that he might end up the luckier of them. "Just don't forget to have fun – live a little," he whispered. "I have a feeling that you're going to break hearts – and I do want to scan all your potential boyfriends first…"

This was relaxing – and he was beginning to wish he had a rocking chair. He was fighting to keep his eyes open when Jen finally reappeared. She smiled as she took Gemma from his arms. To both of their surprise, the girl began to cry, almost in frustration and irritation instead of from some physical ailment.

"Hey," Sky said softly, standing up and gently stroking Gemma' cheek. Her small arm was extended towards him.

"I think she's gotten attached," Jen said.

"I can take her for a little while," he offered, surprised at the words that came tumbling from his mouth.

"Are you sure?"

"Just for a little while."

Jen nodded. "All right." She handed Gemma back to him and her cries quieted. He settled her back into her previous position over his shoulder and sank back onto the couch. "Half an hour," Jen told him, making her retreat.

Things got quiet once more. He heard the doors to the lounge hiss open and was mildly surprised when Syd moved the carrier to the floor and sat on the couch next to him. "That's Gemma?" she asked in a whisper. He nodded. Syd gently stroked the baby's hair, a smile spreading over her face. "Hey, Gemma," she said softly. "You've got the world's best big brother, you know that, right?"

He met Syd's gaze – and was suddenly left wondering what a child of their own would be like, how they would deal with it, raise it… She leaned forward and her lips met his. He was so surprised that he barely had time to respond before she pulled away. Smiling, she stood up and left the lounge.

Sky leaned back against the couch, glancing down at Gemma. "First you, then Syd… all the pretty women want me."

* * *

The door chimes to his quarters sounded and Tommy frowned, not entirely sure who would need to talk him this late on a Thursday. "Come in!" he called. The doors slid open, revealing Austin Grayson, looking a little nervous. "Grayson," he said. "What can I do for you?"

The B-Squad Red Ranger looked a little unsure as he stepped into the apartment. Tommy gave him a searching gaze. He had made Austin the B-Squad's Red Ranger for a number of reasons – he came across as a decent leader, having been a squad leader during his pilot training at the Nebula Academy. He could work within small groups and keep things together. He also did not have a history of abusing a command position, however slight. The decision to assign Paris to the A-Squad came naturally, but he had thought long and hard before he assigned the B-Squad their ranger colors.

"It's about my… job," he trailed off uncertainly.

"All right, sit down." Tommy gestured for the couch.

Austin sat down, looking at his hands. "Look, sir," he started. "I'm a pilot. That's what I've been trained to do, ever since I was a cadet here. I never wanted to be anything else." He paused. "And it's not that I don't want to be a ranger or—or anything… but…"

"But what?" Tommy asked.

"I'm not a leader. At least not a ranger leader."

Tommy leaned back against the couch. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'd like to remain as a ranger – on the B-Squad, but I can't continue to be the Red Ranger. I can't keep leading them."

"Who do you propose I promote to red?"

"Sir, I think I should be placed as Green Ranger and you should promote Sky and Bridge. They've earned it and they've got so much more experience than I do."

"So, you're suggesting I promote Sky to Red Ranger and Bridge to Blue Ranger?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded. "Thank you for being honest, Grayson. I'll put some thought into it and give you my final decision by Monday."

Austin nodded. "Thank you, sir."

* * *

Backstage was buzzing with life and nerves. Z was corralling the crew heads and taking care of last minute details. Paris had given her a list of things that needed to be checked – and she was systematically working her way through the list. The prop crew had the guns and a lot of stage blood (made in Paris' apartment over the weekend – she was swearing that her kitchen sink now had a pink tinge.) Ethan had the cues for the gunshots and the costume crew had repaired one of the _Cellblock Tango_ dresses… if they weren't prepared for opening night, then Z wasn't sure what prepared actually meant.

She glanced into the crowded dressing room. People were moving around and talking excitedly. The three girls who made up the make-up crew were part of the giggle cadet patrol that seemed to follow Sky around. They weren't giggling right now – in fact, each of them was serious, concentrating on applying make-up to their subjects. One of them was working on Bridge, while another was doing Syd's hair. Bridge was quiet – one of the sure signs that he was nervous.

"Hey."

Z turned to see Sky coming towards her. He had on a navy blue dress shirt that was open at the collar and black slacks. He and Paris would be sitting in the audience, both looking professional, but wearing dark enough clothing to prowl around backstage if it was needed. However, the backstage was up to her and Ethan…

"Hey," she echoed. "You're looking all suave and spiffy."

"Very funny," he replied dryly. He pulled a picture from his back pocket. "I thought you might be interested in this."

She took the picture from him, thinking it might be something from the Halloween party. Instead, it featured a young boy, about six, who was Sky from the looks of things. It was obviously that boy's birthday from the cake and presents and the fact that he was dead in the center of it. A little girl was standing on the chair next to him, wearing an almost garish lavender dress and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He looked slightly disgusted.

"Is that you?" she asked.

He nodded. "And that girl is you."

Z opened and closed her mouth a few times, incredulous. "How?" she asked. "I didn't meet you until I came to SPD."

Sky shrugged. "You've have run-ins with me before we were both at SPD." He paused. "That was taken at my sixth birthday. Your parents asked my dad to take you in for a while, trying to hide you from Cruger. My dad said you were with us about two weeks."

Z stared at the picture, shards of memories coming back to her – sleeping on a bottom bunk and feeling scared, alone… insisting on wearing that lavender dress. "Wow," she muttered, then looked up at Sky. "When else have I run into you?"

"You probably don't remember the second time. Bridge and I found you in an alley, sick – almost unconscious. We didn't know who you were, so we took you to a halfway house." He shrugged again. "It's taken us a while to connect you with the girl we found in the alley."

She closed her eyes, remembering that. She had a fever and hadn't been able to make it someplace where she could get help. All she recalled was two vague figures, but… there had been that blue sheen and someone saying that he had shielded the alley. A smile broke out over her face. "That was you two?"

He nodded. "The whole thing was Bridge's idea. He felt you projecting emotions."

"That's Bridge for you."

She glanced down at the picture in her hands. "Can I keep this?" she asked.

"Sure." He looked amused. "My dad said that you were pretty adamant about the fact that you were going to marry me."

"What?" she asked with a laugh.

"I'm just passing on what my dad said – I don't remember that. I just remember the party. So, just remember, I was your first boyfriend – and I have no problems beating Bridge up over anything."

Z nodded. "You know, Sky," she said with a grin. "You actually do have a heart – you just don't want to admit to it."

"If offering to beat up Bridge means I have a heart—"

"Don't finish that statement."

Sky just smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you're here, Z," he whispered. "And I'm glad that you're with Bridge. You both deserve some happiness."

"Not going to keep any for yourself?"

He shrugged. "I'll get along – always have and always will."

"YOU!"

Both of them started and turned to see Paris striding towards them. Sky frowned. She looked almost livid, but was keeping it under control. Like Sky, she was dressed nicely, wearing a classic black dress that was strapless and swished around her knees. Her hair was in a tight French braid. "Me?" Sky asked mildly.

"Yes, you," Paris replied. "Remember how I told you to learn the male leads? Become their understudy? You actually did it, right?"

"Of course," he said, looking bewildered. "What does that—"

"Sharpton broke his leg! Can you believe it? Simulator accident – opening night! I told him to stay away from things that would put him out of commission, but he didn't listen to me and Doctor Felix says he's too doped up on painkillers to do anything tonight! Maybe by tomorrow, but…" She shook her head. "You have to be Amos."

"Wha-what?" Sky stammered, looking terrified.

"Yes! You heard me. Sharpton is tall like you – you should be able to wear his costumes without a huge problem. Hurry up and get ready and we can run through _Mr. Cellophane _and the rest of your lines. Hell, I'll even let you take the script out tonight if you'd be more comfortable." Sky didn't move, as it appeared that he was frozen to the spot. "Oh hell," Paris muttered, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the dressing room.

"I'll go find a costume person to make sure everything fits!" Z volunteered. Paris nodded curtly, before sitting Sky down at Sharpton's place in the dressing room. However, she couldn't resist from watching the ensuing drama.

"Carol," Paris said to the make-up crew giggle-patrol girl who was closest. "You need to do Amos make-up on Sky, fast." Carol nodded, not giggling, but looking professional. "Borrow make-up from someone with his skin tone and tell them that I'll replace it." Paris stopped and compared her tan skin to Sky's. "Actually, never mind – I'll run to my apartment quickly and get my stage make-up. That will work."

Z left to find the costume crew head and missed the rest of the soap opera. The costume people took care of Sky's costumes and he eventually had to run through his musical number and lines with Paris and some of the other cast members before they had to open the curtain. People were cued for the opening and they began without much mishap. Z watched from the wings – and glanced behind her. Paris was standing with Sky, ready to push him out when his first cue was. The lights went down.

Z motioned to him – but he didn't seem inclined to move. Paris' face looked almost malevolent in the dim light backstage. She gave him a push and he stumbled out onto the stage. The pair of them stood and watched the scene unfold. Sky didn't seem to remember his first line, but one of the cadets in the male chorus mouthed it. After that, he seemed to do just fine, picking up the nuances of the scenes easily.

She exchanged a glance with Paris. For a man who claimed he couldn't act or sing, he was doing amazingly well…

* * *

Conner grinned to himself as he and Kira edged their way through backstage. One of the only reasons the usher had let him and Kira back here was because they recognized them as rangers and most lower level personnel let the rangers get away with anything. Backstage was chaotic as people were changing out of their costumes and congratulating themselves and each other. Paris was moving around the dressing room, thanking each person and congratulating them. Her praise obviously meant a lot to them. And it should have, Paris Grayson did not hand out praise lightly or to just anyone.

"Hey guys!"

He turned to see Z coming towards them, a huge smile on her face. She was wearing all black with a black baseball cap on backwards. She and Kira exchanged a quick hug.

"You guys were awesome!" Kira told her.

"Thanks," Z replied.

"I hope that means all of us."

Ethan and Trent appeared. "The booth is ready for tomorrow," Ethan told Z.

Paris moved out of the dressing room and accepted a tight hug from Trent. He kissed her cheek as she remained close to him. The others were still in the dressing room – he could see Syd removing the last of her make-up. Bridge and Sky were talking as the latter finished putting his shirt on – giving the make-up crew a show they had probably been waiting all year to see. Conner continued to smile as Kira threaded her fingers through his. So this school year had been a little wild – and it wasn't over yet.

"There's someone from NYU that wants to talk to you," Trent murmured to Paris.

She pulled away from him, her expression moving from puzzled to incredulous. "Are you serious?" she asked.

Trent nodded. Paris hurried off towards the crowd of people waiting for the rest of the actors and crew to appear. Conner just shook his head – no one, save for Kira, knew that he had called an old friend of his at NYU and that friend had managed to get a representative from their theater department down here to see the show. Paris deserved an opportunity to get out of Newtech and spread her wings – a full scholarship to NYU just might be the ticket. For the other nine rangers at SPD, there wasn't a lot that Conner wouldn't do.

He thought to his ex-wife briefly. That time seemed so far away and like another life, not connected to his current life. He had his daughters, Kira… he was a ranger… what more could he have asked for in the long run?

"Yeah – I don't think Roxie was supposed to kiss Amos during the courtroom scene," Ethan was saying with a laugh.

"No, that wasn't supposed to happen," Z agreed. "But it was cute."

Sky and Bridge came out of the dressing room, joining the small group. "So, do I get an autograph?" Conner asked.

"Autograph?" Sky asked with a frown.

"Sure – so when you guys are on Broadway, I can claim that I knew you once and then sell the autograph for big bucks."

"We're not good enough to be on Broadway," Bridge said.

"You never know," Trent intoned.

"So what's all this about a cast party tomorrow?" Syd asked, accepting hugs from Bridge and Z as she finally joined the circle of rangers.

"Paris' idea," Z replied. "She wanted us the have some fun." She shrugged. "It also helps that the Mom Association decided to donate some money and food for the cause."

And Z was off, giving them the details on the party. Conner glanced at all of them – all of the rangers minus the twins were standing here. It was appropriate, considering that the twins had been removed from ranger activities for so long. The A-Squad here had been rangers before and the B-Squad was picking up that legacy. Soon enough, it would be time to pass that legacy to them permanently while the four of them moved on, away from being Power Rangers. But for now, he intended to enjoy his time here, with them…

"Should we go say hi to everyone?" Bridge asked.

There was a round of agreement as they began to make their way out of the theater and into the lobby just beyond. He was proud of all of them – for putting together the show, but also for growing, becoming adults and ready to take on the world.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Just to kind of give everyone a preview of what is to come - I do plan on doing a Christmas piece in this AU (or winter holiday piece if we're going to be politically correct.) I'm not sure when (or if) it will be posted, but sometime before December 25 - how about that? And it freaking snowed here last night! Hasn't snowed all winter and decides to do it the moment I arrive back from Thanksgiving... freaking weather... At any rate, thanks to everyone who has reviewed - the comments have been amazing and so much fun to read! Thank you all so much for your continued support of my work - it means a lot to me! 


	19. Show Business III

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Nineteen: Show Business III**

His room was dark – had been dark when he got there after the Friday night run of the show, but he hadn't been inclined to do anything about it. He had dropped his bag next to his bed and changed into his pajamas, lying down and trying to sleep. That had been three hours ago. Distantly, he heard the male cadets arriving back from the cast party and talking in loud voices about how great it had been. He had managed to skip the party, ducking out and coming back here – and no one had stopped by to drag him out. Just as well… he wanted to be alone to sort through his thoughts.

He loved Syd – that much was a given. Doctor Oliver had assigned he and Syd to a minor jewel theft earlier that morning. The ride to the jewelry shop had been quiet, but, once there and after having questioned the proprietor, Syd had been fascinated by all the shiny, expensive things that lined the showcases. He hadn't been able to drag her away and ended up explaining about the different stones in the necklaces she had been gazing at. The ride back to the base had been spent conversing amiably, but nothing about them or their friends' relationships. He wasn't sure how they managed to talk about training, cadets, RA duties, assignments and the weather for half an hour, but they had.

It made him remember the whole base of their relationship – a common love for so many things. Both of them liked music – Syd sang, while he plowed away with the piano. They enjoyed dancing, star-gazing… He had a passion for reading and writing, the written word as it were, while Syd could relate to visual art, paintings and sculptures. They enjoyed sparring verbally over philosophers, politics, even novels, not to mention actual sparring. They had been catapulted into a physical relationship too early – neither of them had been ready for it, but they managed, coped and came out stronger from the experience.

The door chimes sounded. "Come in!" he called.

The doors opened to reveal Paris standing there with Peanuts. That stuffed animal had been returned to Syd less than a day after their break-up and he was puzzled as to why Paris would be dragging that thing into his room.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" she asked.

"I was trying to go to sleep," he replied, leaning over to turn on the lamp on his nightstand. Pale, yellow light illuminated the room.

"You're still awake," Paris commented, coming into the room and perching on the edge of his bed. The door slid shut behind her. She placed Peanuts on his chest – and he noticed the blue ribbon and note tied around the worn stuffed animal's neck. "Just bringing you the friendly neighborhood messenger – Peanuts."

In spite of himself, he smiled. The elephant smelled like Syd, faintly of her perfume and even more so like her soap and shampoo. Rose… that had been the scent she preferred and it appeared that she still liked it. He wrapped his arms around Peanuts, holding the elephant to his chest and he focused on Paris.

"So, how was my theatrical debut?"

Paris thought for a moment. "I thought you were going to pass out at first, but you did good." She paused. "And tonight went even better." She stood up. "I'll leave you to your mail. Everyone's back from the cast party, so Bridge should be here soon."

The doors hissed open and Paris disappeared, the doors closing behind her.

Sky glanced at the note tied to Peanuts' neck. He tugged the blue ribbon loose and pulled the paper free. It was a piece of notebook paper, folded. The outside simply said, 'Sky,' in black ink. The handwriting was Syd's. He unfolded the notebook paper and began to read.

_I'm sorry for everything. I should have realized a long time ago that I love you and that you love me unconditionally. I've been ridiculous about this whole thing and I wish we could start over again. But I do hope that we can at least talk and try to repair some of the damage that has been done. Bridge and Z are spending the night at Bridge's house, so I'll be in my room all night tonight. I love you, Sky._

_I'm sorry._

Tear-stains were frequent on the letter. If he knew her, she had probably planned on writing an eloquent, several page apology and plea, but this small, yet heartfelt, note was what she produced. He laughed, but that laugh turned into a strangled sob. He wasn't sure if he wanted to find her and kiss her senseless, indulging in make-up sex that would blow her mind or if he wanted to throttle her.

He sat up and reached over the side of his bed for some shoes, a violent shudder running through his body. Briefly, he curled his fingers towards his palm. His hands were freezing. He stood up, running a hand through his hair. What he wanted didn't matter anymore – he wanted to see if the trust that he and Syd used to share still existed.

Looking at his bed, he picked up Peanuts and headed out of the room.

* * *

The door chimes sounded. Syd started and then put her brush down. After the cast party, she had come back to the dorm, showered and the last half hour had been spent nervously brushing her hair. Not like there were any tangles left to get out… "Come in!" she called, instinctively knowing who it would be, while fervently hoping that it wasn't him. 

The doors hissed open, proving her hunch to be correct. Sky stood there, wearing his pajamas and holding Peanuts loosely to his side. She took in his sleepwear – not that she didn't know what he slept in, but the nights they had spent together didn't often require him to have clothes at all. She almost smiled, remembering the hours spent in the faint afterglow, when they would playfully argue about ridiculous things and she could sometimes coax him into singing to her – that generally depended on how relaxed he was.

His blue plaid pajama pants were loose as was the long-sleeved blue shirt. He had put on some sneakers before leaving his room, probably since he was cold. She watched the way he curled his hands into fists, not because he was fighting, but because he was trying to get some warmth in his fingers.

He said nothing as he stepped over the threshold of the door. Syd stood up, her brush falling to the floor with a muted clank. Without thinking, she crossed the room to him as the doors hissed shut. He was always cold. Taking one of his hands, she pulled it against her wrist, inside the sleeves of her flannel pajamas. Closing her free hand over his, she rubbed slightly, glancing up to see the expression on his face. He was looking carefully blank, but, as the warmth seeped into his fingers, he began to relax.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I know."

"I was trying to understand why we didn't have a fairy tale relationship," she continued. "I realize now that I can't try to evaluate us on anyone's scale, but the one that we devised for ourselves."

"And?"

"We were both busy and should have tried to spend some evenings or nights together, but I jumped the gun and drew conclusions." She tugged on his hand, still trapped in her sleeve and over to the bed. She sat down, leaving a respectable distance between them.

"Do you love me?" he asked softly.

"I never stopped loving you."

"Then we can make this work – we both have to be committed. It's a two-way street."

She smiled. "No more doubting your love, your commitment," she paused. "I might be tempted to doubt your latest IQ test…"

That got him to laugh. He leaned forward, shifting so that he closed the space between them and pressed a feather-light kiss to her lips. She responded and the kiss became deeper, more passionate until she felt tingles run up and down her back. His hands were at her back, moving underneath her pajama top. She pressed herself closer to him, so that she was sitting in his lap. The kisses were unhurried, almost as if they were just enjoying each other after so long, but she knew that it was a prelude to so much more.

Hours later, she smiled at him as he tried to keep from dozing. Their clothes were abandoned on the floor and only a sheet from her bed covered them. At first, she had expected him to complain of being cold, but he didn't. She could feel his toes, entwined with her legs, and his fingers and he was warm. She snuggled into that warmth, pressing a kiss to his jaw as she buried her face in his chest.

"How do you feel about marriage?"

The question, and a coherent question at that, startled her. She lifted her head so that she could look at him. His face was serious. "Why?" she asked with a grin.

"Just asking." He was lying – she could tell. Sky had always been a bad liar, unable to keep a straight face, since he always looked a little shifty when he was telling white lies.

"Schuyler Alan Collins—" she started.

"Oh hell, I just blew my whole cover, didn't I?"

"Sky! What are you trying to get at here?"

"Would you marry me?"

Syd grinned. "What? Now?"

"No, not now. In a couple of years." He paused, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. All the untangling done earlier had been negated during their activities. "I would give you the ring but it's in a vault in Silver Hills."

She was so surprised she sat up, clutching the sheet around her chest and causing him to start. "You bought a ring?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. She leaned into that touch. "But if you'd rather I waited to formally ask with the whole romantic dinner and—"

Syd stopped him, placing a finger on his lips. "Of course I'll marry you," she whispered. "It doesn't matter if it's tomorrow or five years from now."

His smile was enough to light up the dark corners of the earth. She leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss as he pulled her down onto the bed. He was on top of her, his warm weight pressing her down into the mattress. He nuzzled her neck as he worked his way to her collarbone. She shivered in delight. "I love you, Sky."

"I love you, too – always."

* * *

Tommy glanced at his watch – he had called Sky and Bridge into his quarters for a meeting. It was Monday morning and five minutes past their appointment time and neither one of them seemed to be forthcoming. He smiled to himself. Last night had erupted into a spontaneous cast party in the lounge and he had actually been called down there to stop the noise. He didn't find a wild, drunken orgy, just a group of people still on an adrenaline high from their production's success. After chasing the rangers that were present to bed, the rest of the party dispersed rather quickly. That party explained the tardiness of Sky and Bridge. 

The doors to his quarters hissed open and the offending duo tumbled through the door, both looking harassed and out of breath.

"Sorry, sir," Sky started. "I forgot to set my alarm."

"I didn't hear mine go off!" Bridge added.

"That's because your head was under your pillow."

"My ears were cold!"

"Can you two calm down and take a seat?" Tommy interrupted.

The pair obeyed, sitting down on the couch opposite from him. Obviously, Austin hadn't given them the slightest idea what this meeting was about, because both looked slightly puzzled, but intensely curious. Well, it was time for him to do what he should have done back when creating the new A and B squads. Past time…

"I've spoken with Lieutenant Grayson recently," he started. "He wants to continue as a ranger, but he feels that he is not the person to carry on with the Red Ranger's leadership responsibilities." Sky and Bridge exchanged a glance that clearly said, _what's that got to do with us?_ Both were convinced, and rightly so, that until someone from the A-Squad moved on from SPD, they were stuck in their current positions.

"In light of that," Tommy continued. "Grayson will be taking on the responsibilities of the B-Squad Green Ranger. Collins, you're the new B-Squad Red and Corbett, you're the new B-Squad Blue."

Sky looked stunned and speechless, while Bridge appeared to be refraining from breaking into a victory dance right there on the spot. "B-Squad Red?" Sky asked softly, still appearing unbelieving.

"You heard me correctly." He paused and glanced at his watch. "You two and Austin are due in the lab in half an hour to get new uniforms and morphers." They stood up, saluting and heading for the door. "And guys?" They turned back around. "Make me proud."

* * *

"This is so crazy," Z said from the backseat of Sky's car. It was the weekend after the show and after the big promotions. She still couldn't believe all that happened in the space of a weekend and how anything here would be the same. "You and Bridge got promoted – and now Paris is taking off for New York in January." 

"And someone will need to be promoted to the A-Squad to replace her," Bridge added.

"That's not until January," Sky said from the driver's seat, glancing in the rearview mirror at them. Z shook her head – Sky was still glowing about being given the position he had all but stopped hoping to get.

"And the rumor is that Trent's going to New York with her," Syd said with a grin. Her hand was on Sky's thigh and not helping their normally stoic friend's goofy grin.

"Make that two people going to A-Squad."

A comfortable silence descended over the car, the only sound being the radio playing softly in the background. The rules for Sky's car still applied and the main one was that he controlled the radio – not that Sky's tastes in music drove anyone to distraction, but if he had his damn Tchaikovsky mini-disc in, Z knew that she would have been doing some serious snoring in the backseat. How that didn't put Sky to sleep was beyond her.

She had to admit – she had inspired this particular road trip along with some past inspiration from the twins. Paris and Austin had said that they got their tattoos as a visual and permanent reminder that they would always be there for each other, no matter how much space separated them. Z had brought it up Sunday at the cast party as something that they might look into, just to always be connected. The four of them were close – closer than they would ever verbalize and getting tattoos seemed like a fitting idea. Other problems came up, but Sky eventually found a good place that would do it safely – and Bridge had been psyching himself up all week so that he could through with it.

However, Paris, amidst all her harassing Doctor Oliver about missing her when she was gone, had come up with what they should get. She found a Celtic-knot heart design on the tattoo place's website – they were pretty, delicate, but also showed the intricacies and difficulties of relationships. The boys had been really skeptical about getting something so… feminine, but Paris had blandly reminded them that they didn't have to get it someplace where people were going to see it. It had also been her suggestion to get them done in their original ranger color – the colors that all of them first bonded over.

Sky pulled the car into a free spot in downtown Newtech – one of the many areas that offered free parking and the four of them trooped down the sidewalk to the tattoo shop. The place was surprisingly light and clean – Z's only experience with tattoo shops had been the seedy ones in the bad parts of town.

The proprietor, Jessie, was waiting for them. No one else was in the shop.

"I'm Sky," their former Blue Ranger said. "We talked on the phone."

Jessie grinned. "We certainly did. These are your friends?"

Sky introduced them and made short work of telling Jessie what they wanted – the Celtic-knot hearts on their left hips. She nodded.

"Well, you guys are cops and obviously don't want tattoos where someone is bound to see them." She grinned. "Who's first?"

"Me!" Bridge volunteered, surprisingly everyone present. Z touched his arm.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he replied, a defiant look in his eyes. "If I wait, I'll just chicken out."

Jessie was looking a little amused at the entire proceedings. She led Bridge behind a curtain that was so people getting tattoos in potentially embarrassing places could have a little privacy. Z could see the terror in his eyes, but almost a strong determination to see this through. Sky gave her a pointed glance and she went with him.

Z watched as she swabbed the place where the tattoo was going to be a few times with alcohol and set out little cups of green dye, a couple packages of needles and the tattoo gun. Bridge swallowed visibly at the needles.

"This is a thermal transfer," Jessie said as she peeled off a bit a paper and placed it on the tattoo spot. "It transfers the design you picked."

"Cool," Z murmured, getting a scathing glare from Bridge. Jessie pulled off the paper and the result was a little like a purplish temporary tattoo.

"Ready?" Jessie asked Bridge as she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

Bridge looked so completely terrified that all he could manage was a nod. He took a deep breath and Z smiled at him, taking his hand. "It'll be all right," she whispered. Jessie smeared ointment on the transfer, then picked up the tattoo gun and started slowly drawing in the outline of Bridge's tattoo.

She would say one thing for her boyfriend – he didn't scream or pass out or do any of the things that he looked like he so desperately wanted to do. For the first few minutes, he looked like he was going to throw up, but, after that, he settled down and just looked like someone was force-feeding him a salad. (She made a mental note to get him something completely sugar-laden when they were all done here.) Silent tears ran down his cheeks, but he didn't make any noise – and eventually the tears stopped. Z ran her thumb over his cheek, wiping away the remnants of those tears.

Soon enough, Jessie was done and placed a bandage over the tattoo. Bridge got completely dressed and they went into the main area while Jessie got things ready for the next person. Sky and Syd had obviously been having an argument about who was going next.

Sky ended up going next – more so that Syd could watch and know that nothing dire was going to happen to her because of the non-medicinal needles. Her and Bridge settled themselves into the waiting area – and got to hear Syd squeal on several occasions, "That is so cool!"

Needless to say, Syd went after Sky.

Z didn't mind going last – Lord knows that she had a higher threshold for pain that the rest of her closest friends. Her tattoo ended up becoming almost orange, but there was enough yellow there that people would get the point. Jessie had also pointed out that, if she wore underwear like she had on, no one would be able to see the tattoo. No one would be able to see it unless she wanted them to – and there was only one person that Z could imagine she'd be showing that tattoo to…

They went back to the Academy and ended up holing up in her and Syd's room. Sky and Syd were curled up together on Syd's bed – lying on their right sides and Sky's arm was over Syd's stomach, holding her close. Z grinned to herself as she snuggled up with Bridge. She was glad that her two best friends had been able to repair their relationship – and she knew that Syd would definitely think twice before accusing Sky of something.

"Does yours hurt?" Sky suddenly asked.

"Yeah," Z replied. Bridge just groaned. "Does yours?"

"More than I thought it would."

"But it's a good hurt, though," Syd said softly.

"Very good," he agreed. Z lifted her head in time to see him press a kiss to her cheek.

"Do you remember that pact we made?" Bridge asked softly, pushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. Z smiled and kissed his jaw.

"Yeah," Syd ended up answering for everyone in the room.

"I know we're all going to be leaving SPD in the next year or so…" he trailed off, sounding a little uncertain of how to phrase what he wanted to say. "No matter how much distance separates us, we just have to remember that we love each other and that nothing – nothing – can take that away."

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Wow - finals week is quickly approaching. All that's left of this piece is the epilogue. Thanks for reading and reviewing and generally being awesome. This has been quite a ride... Cheers! 


	20. Twilight's Dawn

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own anything you recognize.

**BEHIND THE CLOUDS**

By Etcetera Kit

**Epilogue: Twilight's Dawn**

_Twelve Years Later – Year 2033_

"Do I have to go to bed?"

The little girl stood on her bed, giving her father a mournful look that, in her opinion, probably relayed the injustice of the situation. After all, she wasn't ready to go to bed, so why was her father insisting upon it? Her father stood before her, a stern expression on his face, but a twinkle in his blue-gray eyes.

"Yes," he replied, then swooped down to pick her up, using a modified combat move that effectively had her lying down on her bed. She giggled, grinning at her father. He pulled the covers on her bed over her, tucking her in.

"Can we hear a story?" her older sister asked from her own bed.

The two girls' father gave them appraising looks. "Which story?"

"The one about the SPD Rangers!" the younger girl said happily.

"All right," he agreed. "But you have to lie down and stay quiet." The girls gave murmurs of assent, both looking eagerly at him for the story. "This is the story about the SPD Rangers," he started. "Sky and Syd, Bridge and Z…"

_Sky looked up at the dorm skeptically. This was the place that Newtech University expected Bridge to live for four years? It was utilitarian, red brick – probably to prevent fires from wild parties destroying the building. He sighed. This would just have to be done. Bridge had asked him to help him move into the dorm – not his parents or Z, but him. It would be weird, going back to SPD without them. Syd had enrolled at UCLA last semester and was now an education major. Bridge and Z were both starting at Newtech U this semester._

_His younger brother – moving up and away from him, the only one of them to remain at SPD… Syd was in LA, Paris and Trent had gone to New York. Conner and Kira had moved to Washington state where Conner had opened a series of soccer camps and Kira had resumed her career as a singer. Ethan had gotten a job with the GSA and moved to Mirinoi. Austin had gone to Canada. Now that Bridge and Z were gone – he was alone at SPD._

_The last year had not been without surprises. The one that stood out in his mind was the son that Conner and Kira had. The baby had been named Schuyler Bridge… Sky never thought that having a namesake would be so special, but, it was. He still smiled to think about it._

"_Sky? You all right?"_

_He turned to Bridge, forcing a smile. "Let's get this stuff inside," he said, motioning to his car, which was full of Bridge's belongings. It was a lifetime – it was a second, before they had moved all the stuff into the small single room that Bridge had. He perched on the bed amongst all the junk, trying to resist the urge to act like an overprotective parent._

"_Sky, I'm going to be fine," Bridge said, picking up on his emotions. "I'm only, like, five minutes from the academy. It's not like I'm halfway around the world."_

"_I know."_

"_Good grief – having you here is almost worse than having my mom."_

"_Very funny," he replied dryly, standing up and embracing his best friend._

_Later, when he was on his way back to the academy, he let himself feel the grief and loneliness of the people closest to him moving away._

His voice remained even and calm, lulling the girls into a sound sleep. They would spend time arguing about how much of the story each of them remained awake for, but all that mattered now was that they were settled and in bed.

Distant babbling from their baby brother's room told him that this night – and bedtime ritual – was far from over. Once he was sure the girls were asleep, he had to go wrestle his son to sleep. His most precious possessions, his children…

_Four years – had it really been that long? Had it been that long since they had started to disperse, go their own paths? He missed the others, their constant laughter and chatter, the way they made him leave work to do something fun, the way going out for coffee had become a cause for celebration… It had been four long years of burying himself in work and his rank, trying to forge ahead without them._

_A-Squad Red Ranger – how long had he wanted that, wanted to be the highest ranking officer at SPD? Too long and now that he had the rank, the importance was gone. Doctor Oliver had given him that rank, knowing he could do the job. Lots of paperwork, but gone was the days of patrolling the streets and beating up the bad guys. Had this job been like this when Conner held the rank? He made a mental note to ask._

_Sky let out a long breath, staring at the paperwork on his desk. The long years and endless days seemed to fade – the others were coming home. Syd had just gotten her teacher's certification and a job at Newtech Elementary. Bridge and Z were coming back to SPD – Bridge taking over what had once been Kat Manx's job and Z becoming their CPS liaison._

_Nothing had been easy, especially in his love life. He and Syd loved each other, were committed to each other, but she had been in LA and he remained in Newtech City with more responsibilities than ever. The few weekends and vacations they had managed to spend together cemented in his mind what he had known for a long time._

_Sighing, and knowing that he wasn't going to get any paperwork done, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box and leaning back in his chair._

_Opening the small velvet box, he took in the ring he had bought so long ago. Set in white gold, the pale pink and blue stones glittered under the fluorescent lights. It didn't matter that he was now a Red Ranger – she knew what the blue meant. He shut the box, setting it on the corner of his desk. Did he even dare to hope?_

"_Sky?"_

_He snapped to attention. Syd was standing in the door to his office, wearing white Capri's with a short pink jacket. She had a bemused look on her face._

"_Syd!" he replied. "You're early."_

_She smiled. "Someone has to make sure you don't bury yourself in paperwork on Friday afternoon." She paused. "You do remember that Paris and Trent's wedding is tomorrow?"_

"_Yes." He stood up, rounding his desk and pulling Syd all the way into his office, shutting the door. He had been planning on asking her tonight, over dinner, but now… this felt like the right time. "Syd," he started. "We've been dating for five years."_

"_Sky, I know you can keep track of time."_

"_No, it's just that—" Shit, the speech thing wasn't going to work. He took a deep breath, dropping to one knee. "Will you marry me?" He opened the jewelry box, holding it up to her._

_A single tear slid down her cheek. "Oh, Schuyler," she breathed. He knew the weight of her feelings now – she only called him by his given name when she was upset, serious or in the middle of an orgasm. She grasped his forearms, pulling him to his feet. "Yes," she whispered, pressing her lips to his._

_He slipped the ring onto her finger, knowing that their future was bright._

The girls were sleeping, their even breathing the only sound in the room. They had only lasted through the proposal this time… he smiled, making sure their night-light was on and gently shutting the door behind him. He moved down the short hall to his son's room.

The baby was awake when he entered and began babbling happily when he saw him. He shook his head and picked the baby up. Sitting down in the rocking chair, he took in his youngest child, realizing that their children were the pinnacles of their lives.

_Trent felt like he had been living a nightmare – and that nightmare started almost a week ago, when Paris had gone into labor. The pregnancy, in and of itself, had been accidental. Neither of them particularly wanted children, but, now that it was here, they knew they would make the best of the situation, care for the baby. Then they found out that the baby was a set of identical twins._

_Two weeks early – no one was worried. The labor seemed to be going normal enough, until Paris lost consciousness. The girls had been pronounced healthy, a little underweight, but healthy nonetheless. And Paris… she had slipped into a coma. He fought the tears that were burning his eyes as he gazed at his still wife. This was not supposed to have happened! She was supposed to be all right._

_Getting up from the hard, plastic chair, he knelt beside her bed. "God, Paris," he whispered. "You have to wake up – I can't do this without you." He suppressed a sob, trying to control himself and trying to think logically. If Paris never came out of this coma, then he had the twins to care for – those babies needed someone and… a tear slipped down his cheek. So long ago he had given up the idea of having a family. When he and Paris initially married, neither of them had been planning on having children._

"_I love you," he said to Paris. "I can't do this without you…"_

He kept rocking, smiling as his son fell asleep. Paris had made it out of that coma – and seemed to become even better for it. The twins, Melissa and Ivy, each took after their parents in some way… each wild, yet empathetic at the same time. But it was Bridge and Z, who, in every sense of the term, viewed their daughter as a miracle…

_Z smiled, running one finger down Bridge's bare chest. Their honeymoon… her smile grew wider as her husband shifted in his sleep, moving closer to her. She moved her hand from his chest to his hip, tracing the Celtic-knot heart there. The shades of green still seemed bright, although they had gotten the tattoos almost five years ago._

"_I can't believe it," Bridge murmured in his sleep._

"_What?" she asked._

"_That we're married."_

"_Was there any doubt in your mind?"_

_He didn't reply, just leaned forward and pressed a soft, innocent kiss to her lips. She smiled against his lips, but he pulled back and frowned. Z knew that he had just picked up on the storm that was brewing within her – had been brewing, but she hadn't known how to tell any of the things to Bridge._

"_What's wrong?" he asked._

_She sighed. Perhaps the bluntest route was the best. "The doctors aren't sure if I'll be able to have children," she said softly. "Something about too much scar tissue."_

_He brought his hand to the side of her face, gently stroking her face. "It's all right," he whispered. "There's more to marriage than kids."_

"_You're taking this really well."_

"_How else am I supposed to take it?"_

_Her hand was still on his hip as he shifted their positions so he was over her. He leaned in for another kiss, his hand going to her tattoo. Despite what the doctors had said, she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming joy. Somehow, her and Bridge would have a child – there was only a possibility and they had both overcome the odds before._

The baby was asleep. He thought to his sisters – five and three. Their 'cousin' was three as well, while the twins were six. His family, his life… For so long, he had buried himself in work, in becoming the Red Ranger. But now… if he died tomorrow, he would be happy.

_Z paced the bathroom, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror every so often. Her yellow tank top and gray shorts seemed almost out of place with what she was doing. How long did it take a pregnancy test to render a verdict? This was ridiculous…_

_She and Bridge had been trying for three years to have a child. Now, she was convinced that this was an actual pregnancy and not a false alarm. However, the day she managed to get the test and use it, Bridge had to work late from a minor explosion in the lab. Why did all kinds of circumstances coincide against her?_

_All right – the correct amount of time had passed. She glanced at the test and then glanced back at the box, with the results' key. She pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling a joyful shriek as it erupted from her. She was pregnant! Her hand went to her belly, her fingers splayed as she realized the new life – the life that she and Bridge had managed to create! She wasn't sure what to do…_

_The front door opened. "Z?" she heard Bridge call._

_She burst out of the bathroom and raced downstairs. Bridge looked a little surprised at her antics. She brandished the little stick from the test in front of him. "I'm pregnant!" she squealed._

"_Wha—what?" he stammered, taking the stick and frowning at it._

"_I'm pregnant," she repeated more slowly._

_A smile slowly broke out over Bridge's face as he pulled her close, giving her a long, hard kiss. His hands roamed from her sides to her stomach, his fingers seeking out their child. She smiled, covering his hands with hers. She could remember when he wore gloves all the time, trying to block out images, but he had grown, learned to control his powers and cope with what that meant. It had meant so much to get a simple touch from him…_

"_Bridge, you can't feel the baby yet," she said with a smile._

_He gave her a bored look. "Want to bet?"_

_She shook her head, pulling away from him. "I need to make a doctor's appointment," she said, moving into the kitchen. He followed her and, as she made the phone call, he remained quiet, his brow furrowed in worry. Hanging up the phone, she went to him. "What's wrong?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him._

"_Nothing," he replied with a tense smile._

_Later that night, she woke up and realized that Bridge wasn't in bed with her. He was standing by the large window in their room, gazing out at the night sky. She got up and stood next to him. "Bridge?" she asked._

"_She needs us, Z," he whispered. "She needs us so much."_

"_Who? The baby?" He nodded. "It's too early to know if it's a boy or girl."_

"_Trust me, it's a girl," he replied._

_Z smiled, wrapping an arm around his waist. He moved so that she was against his chest, holding her tightly. "Of course she needs us," she whispered. "She's going to be completely dependent on us." She paused. "We've wanted her for so long…"_

"_We have, haven't we?"_

Now that his son was sleeping, his own eyelids began to feel heavy. When his wife had first insisted that rocking their oldest would put her to sleep, he had scoffed. But it worked like a charm and the kids were out like lights when he rocked them. The baby was asleep – he should settle him in the crib, but couldn't bring himself to move his son just yet.

"_She was early and a little underweight, but, otherwise, she's completely healthy."_

_Bridge let out a sigh of relief, smiling as Z cradled Hope in her arms. 'A little early' was the understatement of the year. Last time he checked, a month early was not something to be sneezed at, but Z was all right and Hope was fine… and he hadn't had a heart attack in the process. There had been so much panic and anxiety in the delivery room that he had had to fight to keep himself from being lost in the emotion, not to mention he had to deal with his own overwhelming panic and worry._

_Z had sensed that, despite having just given birth. They had held Hope, but then she was taken for a quick examination by the doctor. Z had been taken care of and moved to a private room. He knelt by the side of her bed as she ran her fingers through his hair while he desperately tried to regain his equilibrium._

_The doctor left and Bridge sat on the edge of the bed beside Z, gently stroking Hope's downy soft hair, amazed at the miracle they had created. Against all odds… it seemed like they had spent so much time beating the odds…_

"_Looks like we missed all the fun."_

_He grinned as Sky and Syd entered the room. Sky was holding their two-year old daughter, Dallas, while Syd was extremely pregnant with their second child. "You have a weird definition of fun," Bridge told him._

"_He is weird," Syd said, taking a chair next to Z and cooing over Hope. "You look a whole lot more calm than Sky was when Dallas was born," she added._

"_Let's, please, not talk about that," Sky retorted dryly._

_Bridge shook his head, having heard the story of Sky in a highly panicked state almost putting the entire hospital into chaos. He felt Z lean closer to him as they listened to Sky and Syd's playful banter and news about the upcoming birth of their second daughter._

He felt his eyes close. He didn't see his wife standing in the doorway, smiling at both of them and shaking her head. He tightened his grip on his son…

"_You think _what_?" Syd asked sharply._

_Sky mumbled something, fixing his gaze at a spot somewhere beyond her left shoulder. A high flush had risen to his cheeks and he looked disgruntled. Saturday afternoon – Dallas was attending a birthday party for one of her friends and Ally was taking a nap upstairs. And he had just suggested that they have another child._

_She shook her head. "We already have two – your oldest daughter is four or did you miss that somewhere? And I'm the one that has to have them!"_

"_I know."_

"_Then why? Why do you want another child?"_

_His reply was nonsensical._

_Syd sighed and closed the space between them, her hand going to cup his cheek. "Schuyler," she said softly. "Just give me a substantial reason why you want to have a third child and we can talk about it."_

"_I… just…"_

_She stepped back. "Never mind – I do know why you want another one." She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. "We'll talk about it tonight – right now, you can go pick Dallas up from the birthday party."_

_That night, once the girls were in bed, she watched Sky move jerkily around their bedroom, still upset about her reaction. It wasn't like this was a touchy subject. She sat down on their bed, following him with her blue-eyed gaze. "Sky?" she asked softly. He turned to her, his eyes wary. "Can you sit down so we can talk?"_

_He sat down next to her on their bed, the lack of movement a little jarring. She cocked her head towards him. "You want a boy," she said._

"_Yes," he replied shortly, probably upset that his ruse had been called out._

"_You do realize that the first two being girls was your fault?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And if the third one is a girl that would also be your fault?"_

"_I know."_

_She laughed, settling herself in his lap. His arms went around her, cradling her against his chest. He desperately wanted a son. Oh, she knew that he loved her, Dallas and Ally dearly, but he still wanted a boy. Playing catch in the backyard and all the other images – he had that in his mind, but she wanted some promises from him first._

"_Sky," she said. "You have to promise that, if the baby ends up a boy, you will not try to force him into being macho and ridiculous."_

"_Come on, he'll have two crazy older sisters."_

"_And you will not insist he go to SPD and become a ranger – and, if when's he's in college or something, he wants to be an artist, you will not disown him or be stubborn about it."_

"_Syd," he whined. "You're making me look heartless."_

"_Do you promise?"_

"_Yes." He paused. "It doesn't matter what they'll turn out as."_

"_All right, then let's have this third child."_

"You spoil them rotten."

He jerked his eyes open, smiling at Syd. She had taken Eric from his arms and put him in his crib. He was sleeping peacefully. Eric Phillips… it had only seemed right to name his son after his father and the butler that had helped him integrate his biological family with his adopted family. "If the shoe fits," he replied.

"Sky," she said, taking his hand and leading him from the room, down the hall to their room. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he replied.

And he meant it – this was his life, forever and always.

_There is always light behind the clouds._

The End

* * *

**Author's Note:** Just so y'all know, this epilogue was a pain in the butt to write. (What's more, I had so many moments in mind that it was difficult to pick which ones made the final cut!) And here we come to the end of yet another piece. I sincerely hope that everyone who has read this piece enjoyed it (and, if you didn't, why did you continue to read?) Really, this piece was a collection of situations I wanted to write about and you can definitely see how this is much more in episodic form rather than one continuous piece. This is also the first relatively full-length sequel piece that I have finished, so cheers to that. I've also realized that I project a lot of myself onto Sky... I guess that works within the context of this piece. 

But, moving right along, to my reviewers: alexis (emogeek1), Anastasia Athene, AngelMouse5, Ani, asendedones, Blake-Tori88, BloomingViolets, BrandonB, CamFan4Ever, Crimson Mystery, CT, Darkchilde, Funky In Fishnet, garnetred, Gear's Girl, Giannola, Islandgurlie12, jedi4jesus19, Jeremy, MagCat, missy, Moi, Part of the Queue, pikachucranstongirl, Pink-Green-White-4ever, prettynpink8, PRNewLegacy, ptime, redandblack 4eva, Samurai-Nashie, Satori Blackthorn, Silver Warrior, sky's girl forever, the real vampire, Trey Miller, vi, Warstock-Leonhart and Weesta. You guys have left great feedback and it's been so much fun to read the reviews! Seriously, all of you are the reasons behind these stories. If I had time, I would thank all of you individually - it's been awesome!

And, as usual: Anastasia Athene, BloomingViolets and Weesta, thanks!

I've got a couple different ideas for future pieces. _Of You_ definitely needs a few more drabbles in order to come to something resembling a stopping point and to give it a sense of closure. _Bond Enforcement_ is in the early stages of re-writing. (And, yes, BloomingViolets, I know that you especially want to see that piece revived.) I'd also like to do a holiday one-shot in this AU and I've got a couple of other ideas for one-shots within the SPD realm. And for those of you who've been reading my work since I landed in the PR fandom, you know that I adore doing color-coded team-ups using only a few rangers of a color. I've done red and yellow... blue will be next! (I'm not going to say which rangers - that is a surprise!)

But, seriously, thank you all for continuing to read and support my efforts! All the comments, praise and criticism are greatly appreciated. As a side note, I am up for some awards over at _Guardians of the Earth_. Voting is now up and will be up until December 10. There's a lot of great work over there and, as much as I would love for you to vote for me, vote for who you feel really deserves the award. (Although I would be absolutely thrilled if I won the OC award for Paris...) At any rate, thank you so much and I'll see you all around! EK


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